


please disregard my house of cards (built from mistakes)

by rekamohcs



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst for like one sec, Communication, Consent is Sexy, Developing Friendships, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Enthusiastic Consent, Falling In Love, First Dates, Flirting, Fluff and Smut, Frat Parties, Friends to Lovers, Frottage, Getting Together, Heavy Petting, Iwaizumi works in a greenhouse, Kissing, M/M, Making Out, Oikawa/OC for two seconds, Pick Up Lines, Plants, Sexting if you squint, Sexual Identity, Sexual Tension, Slice of Life, Slow Build, Strangers to Lovers, Teasing, Texting, They both really like plants, Tsundere!Iwa, Volleyball Player!Oikawa, as usual, cameos of various other characters, lots of soft plant imagery, mentions of drinking and drugs, mentions of past relationships - Freeform, scientist!Iwa, scientist!Oiks, specifically science pick up lines, they're lab partners!, thrift store shenanigans
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-21
Updated: 2020-06-21
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:02:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 23,547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24836593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rekamohcs/pseuds/rekamohcs
Summary: “Oh please, I wouldn’t get too ahead of yourself. I mean, what kind of heathen eats mint chocolate chip ice cream?”“Says the man who got plain vanilla.” Oikawa teases back without missing a beat. “Is that what you prefer inotheravenues of your life? Simple and safe andvanilla?”A hot flush rises up Iwaizumi’s neck. “Shut up, Shittykawa.”Oikawa’s laugh tinkles in delight around them. “Don’t worry, Hajime. I’ll be happy to spice up your life.”Oh, God, Iwaizumi thinks as he feels his flush deepen, are weflirting?---All Iwaizumi wants to do is hang out at the greenhouse with his plants and get through his final year of college. Oikawa has other plans for him.
Relationships: Iwaizumi Hajime & Oikawa Tooru, Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru
Comments: 43
Kudos: 663





	please disregard my house of cards (built from mistakes)

**Author's Note:**

> 90% inspired by real-life events. 100% of the motivation from the fact that I’m a graduate student now and it’s hard, y’all + quarantine is killing me. Sometimes, I just really, really miss being an undergraduate. This is the result of my memories and nostalgia. Also, just a huge ass excuse to write Iwaizumi loving on plants, yo.
> 
> THIS GOT OUT OF CONTROL, as usual.
> 
> Title from “Singing by Myself” by Grayson DeWolfe.

“Well, aren’t you looking good today?”

Iwaizumi Hajime runs his fingers over the smooth, waxy leaves of the rubber plant in front of him. The leaves bob beneath his touch, as if preening under his gaze. He smiles to himself and turns around to take in the wall of orchids hanging behind him. They probably need fertilizer soon. Maybe he’ll get to that before class today.

He reaches out and curls the tendril of a creeping fig around his index finger, delighting in the way it springs back when he pulls at the vine. This guy is one of his favorites – it was just a tiny thing when they first got it in at the greenhouse. Now, it hangs over the edges of the pot, limbs dangling long and lanky toward the floor, leaves curling in the milky sunlight. He grabs the pot and takes it off the hook to check the soil. “Looks like you need some water, don’t you, bud?”

Iwaizumi hums to himself as he makes his way through the room, checking all of the plants with care. He’s been working at the university’s greenhouse for three years now. What started as a conveniently located source of income to help him pay the bills during his college years eventually turned into one of his greatest interests and passions. He _loves_ plants, loves the variety and personality that they have, loves figuring out what makes them all happy, what makes them all thrive. The greenhouse has become his safe space. He works more shifts than he really needs to just because he enjoys it so much, and it’s easy to swing by for an hour or two in between classes, as long as he keeps a change of clothes on him at all times.

Iwaizumi hums as he makes his rotation through the various houses, sweat condensing at his brow from the warm humid air that comes with the job description. By the time he has finished watering the plants as needed and noting which to fertilize during his next shift, he’s covered in water, there is likely permanent soil beneath his nails, and he has thirty minutes before his first class starts for the day and semester.

He grabs his bag of spare clothes from the cabinet in the headhouse, the main room of the greenhouse that _isn’t_ kept at unbearable humidity levels – it’s where the staff usually congregate for meetings and where they store their belongings, since it’s the room less likely to get drenched in water. He steps into the on-site shower and cleans himself up, and does his best to get the soil out from beneath his fingernails, but he can only do so much. He dries himself off with his staff towel and changes into a new set of clothes.

Swinging his bag over his shoulder, he leaves a note for his boss that he’ll be a little late to his afternoon shift because he needs to pop by for office hours with a professor to schedule a senior advising appointment. One of the beautiful things about having an on-campus job is the flexibility that comes with it: his boss is incredibly understanding that his classes are his priority, and his job will always come second.

Once he’s finished, he runs his fingers through his now-damp hair and takes one last glance around the headhouse to make sure everything seems to be in order for when his boss arrives in half an hour. Iwaizumi is usually in before the greenhouse manager because of his class schedule, but he’s been working there long enough that his boss trusts him to run the entire place on his own if he needs to. Satisfied with his once-over, he pushes his way out into the morning air and heads to class.

\---

Iwaizumi slides into his desk and pulls out his material. Analytical Chemistry is probably going to be his least favorite subject to date, and he’s not too enthused to be here, but his conscience only really lets him skip class when there’s an actual reason to and not just when he doesn’t want to be there - especially on the first day of class. He is in the middle of mentally preparing himself to stay awake through the predictably dry lecture coming his way when his thoughts are pulled out from under him.

“Yoohoo! Good morning, Iwa-chan!”

Oikawa Tooru, third year Biology major, first string setter and captain of their University’s volleyball team, and all-around annoying, know-it-all classmate that Iwaizumi has had to deal with the past three years, waves at him from a couple rows down the lecture hall. Being an upperclassman course, the hall is small, accommodating fifty students max, with their class size sitting at around twenty students. That means Iwaizumi has no escape from Oikawa’s sharp gaze and lilting voice, as he hasn’t since they advanced passed the weed-out classes in their first year. They got into a heated debate during their Ethics of Science course in the first semester of their second year, and Oikawa has apparently made it his mission to try and garner Iwaizumi’s attention by annoying him ever since.

Iwaizumi raises an unamused eyebrow, taking in Oikawa’s appearance: loose t-shirt tucked into fashionable jeans, fluffy chestnut hair swooping over his forehead, glasses perched on his nose, and girlfriend tucked against his side. “Shittykawa.” Iwaizumi offers in an unenthusiastic greeting.

Oikawa huffs and rolls his eyes. His girlfriend, a petite wisp of a girl with long dark hair and big, round eyes, giggles beside him as she takes her seat. Iwaizumi offers her a pleasant smile. She’s been in a fair share of the same classes as Oikawa and Iwaizumi since their first year, too. “G’morning, Sophie.”

Sophie tilts her head and smiles sweetly at Iwaizumi. She’s a nice girl, though Iwaizumi doesn’t know her too well. Oikawa literally _pouts_ at the exchange. “Iwa-chan! Not fair – don’t be nice to my girlfriend but rude to me. I know she’s pretty, but so am I.”

Iwaizumi honestly doesn’t know what Sophie sees in this guy. Sure, he’s damn good at volleyball – Iwaizumi played in middle and high school, so he’s rather familiar with the sport, and he knows a good player when he sees one – and yeah, he’s incredibly intelligent, sitting as the top student in almost every one of their shared classes (much to Iwaizumi’s frustration), and okay, he’s definitely easy on the eyes, but _God,_ he’s an annoying, pretentious, entitled brat half the times that Iwaizumi has ever interacted with him.

“Not so sure about that.” Iwaizumi drawls, voice light. “Have you looked in a mirror lately?”

Oikawa’s jaw drops and Sophie laughs in his expense. The setter looks absolutely betrayed by her laughter and shocked by Iwaizumi’s comment. Iwaizumi finds great amusement in the frustrated flush that rises up Oikawa’s neck, settling onto his high cheekbones.

“Y’know what, no.” Oikawa says after a moment. “Neither of you get to enjoy my presence anymore today because you’re both so _rude.”_ He pouts, sticking his nose up in the air and plopping down a couple of seats away from Sophie indignantly.

Sophie giggles again and looks back at Iwaizumi, throwing him a wink. She’s _way_ cooler than Oikawa will ever be. Iwaizumi thinks that he’d like to be her friend, maybe. “Aw, c’mon, babe. You know you’re the prettiest person here.” She teases, tossing a paper ball in Oikawa’s direction.

Even though Oikawa is still pouting, he offers her a charming, flirtatious smile. It is nothing more than a flash of teeth and a quirk of lips, gaze sliding over to her from the corner of his eye, but it makes Iwaizumi frown because it’s distracting. “Thanks, honey, but I’m only the prettiest after _you._ ”

“Oh my _God._ ” Iwaizumi groans, running his hand over his face. Oikawa’s laugh lilts through the air at Iwaizumi’s irritation, and Iwaizumi really just wishes he could be back in the greenhouse.

\---

Iwaizumi isn’t sure how he’s managed to go his entire college career thus far without having a lab with Oikawa Tooru, but his luck has apparently run out.

The volleyball captain perches on the swiveling chair beside him, looking oddly smug. As soon as he had walked into the lab and saw Iwaizumi sitting at one of the lab benches without a partner, he had swooped in and announced, “Iwa-chan! You don’t have a partner? Well, _now_ you do!” and there was nothing Iwaizumi could do to stop it from happening.

It’s a small chemistry lab, being an upper level course. There are a couple of underclassmen at the lab bench next to them that Iwaizumi recognizes from some of his lower level courses – he thinks their names are Kunimi and Kindaichi, and he’s fairly certain they’re also roommates.

Their professor comes in and introduces himself with practiced ease, going over the syllabus only briefly because it’s an upper level course and they all have taken many other labs in their tenures as college students. They’re released relatively early since it’s syllabus day, but Oikawa catches Iwaizumi before he can make his escape.

“Iwa-chan!” The volleyball player chirps, voice dripping charm. “If we’re going to be lab partners, we should exchange numbers so we can coordinate for reports and whatnot.”

Iwaizumi scowls but agrees. “Fine, but don’t go texting me random irrelevant shit.” He mutters grouchily, earning himself an eye roll.

“Don’t worry, my favorite tsundere biologist. I’ll keep the extracurricular texts to a minimum.” Oikawa winks. Iwaizumi runs a hand over his face with a groan.

“I can’t believe my luck – three whole years and _now_ I get stuck with you.”

Oikawa’s grin is _radiant._ “I know! You’re _so_ lucky. How awful it would have been for you to graduate and to have never had me as a partner!”

Iwaizumi doesn’t even warrant that with a response. Instead, he turns on his heal and stomps his way down the hallway.

\---

Much to Iwaizumi’s chagrin _and_ relief, Oikawa is actually an excellent lab partner.

He looks hilariously nerdy in his vibrant green lab goggles, but he always comes prepared and isn’t afraid to get his hands dirty – which is nice because Iwaizumi has had some lab partners in the past who didn’t want to do _anything_ and never knew what was going on.

Oikawa is, however, still distractingly pretty and flirtatious.

And he _loves_ nerdy pick-up lines.

“Iwa-chan,” Oikawa murmurs quietly, one day while they’re gathering their supplies. He sets a Bunsen burner on the table and waggles his eyebrows, which looks _ridiculous_ behind his giant goggles. “You’re hotter than a Bunsen burner turned up all the way.”

Iwaizumi’s eye twitches in response, and he refrains from hitting Oikawa upside the head with said Bunsen burner.

On a different day, one where Iwaizumi happens to be wearing jeans, Oikawa turns to him while they wait for a reaction to finish, and gives him a full-body once over that makes Iwaizumi squirm in his seat even though he doesn’t _care,_ and says, “If I were an enzyme, I’d be DNA helicase so I could unzip your genes.”

Iwaizumi can’t help the flush that sits on his cheeks in response. “Don’t you have a _girlfriend?”_ He sputters out, embarrassed, and all Oikawa gives him in response is a delighted, tinkling laugh.

The third week of their lab together, Oikawa hits him with the absolute _worst_ pick up line yet. “Iwa-chan, you’re so hot – you must be the cause for global warming.”

It’s just – it’s _so_ bad, and Oikawa is waggling his eyebrows behind his giant goggles looking ridiculous, and Iwaizumi tries, _he really tries,_ to keep himself from cracking, but he can’t. He huffs out a bark of laughter in response and shoves Oikawa playfully in the shoulder. “Oh my _God_ , that was _awful.”_

He grins over at Oikawa and rolls his eyes. Oikawa looks absolutely delighted at Iwaizumi’s response, a tiny smile teasing his lips. “Awful science pick-up lines are the best kind of pick-up lines, Iwa-chan.” He says. “I’m glad you’re finally seeing the light.”

“The only light I’m seeing is you catching that rod on fire if you keep getting distracted by shitty pick-up lines.”

Oikawa rolls his eyes, but his smile remains. “Ah, there’s my favorite tsundere. I was worried I’d lost him for a moment.”

Iwaizumi resists the urge to shove Oikawa again since he’s now in the middle of measuring out their reagents. “I’m not a tsundere.” He mutters defensively.

At his words, Oikawa legitimately stops what he’s doing and laughs, looking over at Iwaizumi with bright eyes behind his goggles. “Oh, Iwa-chan.” He grins. “Now _that_ was a funny joke.”

“Oh my God, get back to work, Shittykawa.”

\---

They’re almost halfway through the fall semester, and the night air is balmy against Iwaizumi’s skin. Leftover heat from the day of incessant sunshine rises from the pavement even though it’s been dark for a couple hours. He checks his watch and sees that it’s already past ten o’clock. He’s spent an immense amount of time studying for one of his upcoming exams tonight – the semester being in full swing, now - and he’s ready to fall face-first into his bed and call it a night, even though his stomach is fighting him for some food.

He hikes his backpack over his shoulder a little higher, trekking through the breezeway that leads from the library to the science building. It’s a familiar path and an even more familiar building. An odd sense of nostalgia tightens in his chest at the unbidden thought that this is his final year of college and that this building and these pathways will not be a part of his daily routine sooner than he thinks he’s ready for.

He turns a corner and follows the path downward toward the greenhouse. The building sits at the top of a hill, right next to Iwaizumi’s favorite expanse of grass that the school has to offer. Overall, the college sits atop a large mound of land that overlooks a lake, and he loves to sit up on the grass beside the greenhouse and admire the water. Sometimes he comes by late at night when his mind feels restless and full of anxious thoughts about the future and he sits, stares up at the stars, admires how the moon reflects off the inky water at the bottom of the hill.

The nostalgic feeling deepens. Despite the hunger crawling at his abdomen, he decides to make a pit-stop at the hill, just for a few minutes. The night is quiet around him as he rounds the bend and prepares to step into the grass, but he stops mid-step when he sees another figure _already_ sitting on his hill.

Frankly, Iwaizumi is surprised that this is the first time this has happened in the three years he’s been a student. It’s a _good_ hill. But regardless, this _is_ the first time someone else has been sitting in his place when he’s wanted to sit there, and it makes him feel awkward. He doesn’t really want to sit in silence with another person, so he starts to turn around, deciding to just head back to his dorm.

“Oh, Iwa-chan?”

The voice stops Iwaizumi from retreating. He turns his gaze back to the figure on the hilltop, who is now looking at Iwaizumi. With his face toward the light, Iwaizumi makes out the easily recognizable waves of fluffy hair and sharp jawline. The man has his knees pulled up to his chest, long arms wrapped around them, looking unusually and uncharacteristically small. Iwaizumi clears his throat awkwardly. “Uh, hi.” He answers lamely. “This is my hill.”

In the dim lamplight and from this distance, he can just make out the outline of Oikawa’s brow raising. “Wow, Iwa-chan is so important that he owns an entire hill?” He teases lightly, but Iwaizumi can tell that there is something straining in his voice.

Iwaizumi flushes in embarrassment. God, he’s awful at small talk. Taking a few steps toward Oikawa so he can see him better, he says, “That’s not what I meant. I just usually come here to think.”

At this, Oikawa smiles, but it is lacking its usual luster. “That makes two of us, then.” He pauses, turning back to look down at the water. His shoulders deflate in a way that makes Iwaizumi concerned. “Feel free to join me, if you’d like.”

How rude would he be if he denied Oikawa’s invitation? He steps forward, grass crunching beneath his sneakers, and drops his bag. He sits down in the grass and leaves a couple feet between them. For a long, heavy moment, it is silent, the moon hanging low in the sky, an observer of the night. Then, Iwaizumi asks, “Are you okay?”

“I broke up with Sophie.”

This is not a conversation he thought he’d be having tonight, if ever, with this particular acquaintance of a classmate. Oikawa sounds sad, as if the admission physically pains him. It makes something in Iwaizumi’s chest squeeze uncomfortably. At the feeling, Iwaizumi realizes that he’s never actually seen Oikawa upset in any way – he’s seen him aloof in the classroom, confident and flirtatious, and absolutely terrifying on the court or in a debate, but never sad or hurt or dejected like this.

“Shit.” Iwaizumi says intelligently. He’s not sure how long the two had been dating, but he knows it wasn’t a particularly short amount of time. “I’m sorry.”

Oikawa offers Iwaizumi a rueful smile, gazing over at him from the corner of his eye. “What are you apologizing for? I’m the one who made the decision to end it.”

Iwaizumi clears his throat awkwardly. “Yeah, but – I mean, break ups suck no matter what the context.”

At this, Oikawa turns his head to look at Iwaizumi straight on, the lamp light dusting over his features attractively. His gaze is sad, but his smile is soft. “Yeah, I suppose that’s true.” He agrees.

Iwaizumi is suddenly caught in Oikawa’s gaze. He’s never really looked at the man this closely before. Sure, he’s noticed Oikawa from afar, he’s caught his gaze wandering over the soft waves of his hair and sharp cut of his jaw, but he’s never really _looked_ before. And right now, Oikawa just looks _vulnerable_ and open, like a fresh wound, raw and tender, haunting. Iwaizumi has to force himself to look away from the setter’s gaze. “Do you – Do you want to talk about it?”

Oikawa releases a heavy sigh, turning his gaze back to the lake below. “I really, really like Sophie, you know?” He says after a moment of quiet. Iwaizumi keeps his gaze forward, not wanting to pressure Oikawa with a stare. “But I realized that, even though I really like her as a human being, I’m not nearly as attracted to her as I am others.” He pauses and reaches out to pluck a couple blades of grass from the ground. “I just – I’d rather be with a man. I like Sophie, but I’m much more interested in men than women, and it wasn’t fair to her that I wasn’t completely invested in the relationship.”

For the second time tonight, Iwaizumi is _floored._ His head whips around to look at Oikawa inquisitively, brows furrowed. “You’re gay?” He blurts out, words flooding from his mouth before his brain catches them.

Oikawa looks up at him with slightly raises brows, a defensive gleam in his eye and a dust of pink across his cheekbones. “I’m bisexual.” He says curtly, eyes narrowing. “Is that a problem?”

It takes a moment for Iwaizumi to realize how his surprised question may have come off insensitive. He raises his hands in surrender, offering Oikawa a placating smile. “No, no!” He corrects. “Of course not. I was just honestly really surprised. I had no idea.”

Oikawa hums, expression relaxing at Iwaizumi’s tone. He shrugs halfheartedly. “It’s not really something I advertise unless it’s relevant.”

Iwaizumi returns his hands to his lap and chews on his lip. After a moment of awkward silence, he says, “I get that. I, uhm – I’m bisexual, too. It’s not really something I talk about too much, I guess.” He pauses, pointedly not meeting Oikawa’s gaze. “I haven’t really dated in a while, though. The last guy I dated really fucked me up, I guess. He liked to play games.”

He can feel Oikawa’s sharp gaze on his profile. The setter continues to pluck at the grass, the smell of damp soil perforating Iwaizumi’s sense of smell. “I’m sorry that happened to you.” Oikawa says at last. “I’m really happy you feel like you can share that with me.”

Iwaizumi looks over at Oikawa then, taken aback by the honest and genuine appreciation in Oikawa’s voice. This is an entire side of Oikawa that Iwaizumi didn’t know existed. Something soft unfurls in his chest as he watches the other man tear a blade of grass in half. “You, too.” Iwaizumi eventually says.

Oikawa meets his gaze, searching for something, and then gives Iwaizumi a gentle, shy smile. He looks up at the sky after a moment and says, “Did you know that our sun is considered a green star?”

Iwaizumi blinks. “What?”

“Yup, our sun’s peak wavelengths lie between the blue and green nanometers of the visible spectrum. It appears yellow because of all of the other colors that are emitted that the human visual system picks up on, but it’s actually a green star.” Oikawa looks back down at Iwaizumi with a smile, and it’s the brightest one Iwaizumi has seen during the entire duration of their entire heart-to-heart hill chat. “It's also a dwarf star - all of the other stars we can see at night are actually much larger than our sun, even though they don't look it. Cool, huh?”

Iwaizumi takes a moment to process the information that Oikawa has just provided to him. Then, he really can’t help it when laughter bubbles up from his throat, breaking through the tension that has layered itself between them. “Wow.” He chuckles. “You’re a weird dude. Nerd.”

Oikawa squawks at Iwaizumi’s comments and throws a few blades of grass at the man. “Excuse _you_ , I am not _weird.”_

Iwaizumi’s laughter trails off into a genuine smile. Without thinking it through, he asks, “Do you like plants?”

Oikawa looks at Iwaizumi as if he’s grown a second head in response to the random question. “Who’re _you_ calling weird?” He mutters. “Yes, I love plants.”

Smile widening into a broad grin, Iwaizumi pushes himself up to his feet, dusting the grass off of his pants. He reaches down and slings his bag over his shoulder. “C’mon, then. Want to see the greenhouse?”

Oikawa looks up at Iwaizumi with a wide, owlish expression that turns into something excruciatingly excited and overjoyed. Iwaizumi feels pride swell in his chest at the thought that maybe he can cheer Oikawa up. “You know a way in?”

The greenhouse is usually closed off to visitors unless they have explicit need and reason to be there – this is because the greenhouse specializes in growing plants for University use and wholesale, and if visitors came in and walked off with any of their plants or harmed them in some way, it could really mess up their work. Iwaizumi doesn’t really advertise that he works in the greenhouse for that reason – he doesn’t think his boss would appreciate any of his friends randomly popping by to say hello.

Iwaizumi smirks and quirks a brow. “I sure do.” He says, cocky and proud that he has something that Oikawa doesn’t, for once. “I work there.”

“ _What?”_ Oikawa hops up to his feet, surprise all over his features. “I didn’t even know that was a possibility! Iwa-chan, this is fascinating information. I mean, really – I love plants. I have a whole collection of tropical plants in my dorm room.”

Again, Iwaizumi is surprised by the words coming out of Oikawa’s mouth. He realizes, belatedly, that he really doesn’t know this boy at all. All he knows is what Oikawa chooses to show his usual audience, but Iwaizumi has a feeling that the _real_ Oikawa has a lot hiding beneath the surface.

Iwaizumi doesn’t respond, but instead leads Oikawa to the greenhouse. He fishes out his keys and unlocks the main door, and Oikawa gasps as if he’s only _now_ believing that Iwaizumi actually has access to the goods.

“I can’t _believe_ this.” Oikawa hisses. “Three years and I never knew this forbidden land could be accessed so easily.”

Iwaizumi jabs him in the side with his elbow. “It’s not too late for me to lock this door back up, you know.”

Oikawa throws his hands up in surrender. “No! Please, I want to see.” He says earnestly, charming smile on his lips. Iwaizumi huffs and pushes the door open, holding it for Oikawa to follow.

Oikawa’s gaze is greedy as he wanders around the headhouse. Iwaizumi sets his bag down on the main table and gestures for Oikawa to follow him. “C’mon,” He whispers, unsure as to why he’s talking so lowly, “This way.”

He leads him down the hall, past all of the normal greenhouse rooms. Oikawa tries to peek his head up to gaze in through the windows, but Iwaizumi keeps tugging him toward the house sitting farthest in the back. When they get to it, Iwaizumi slides a different key into the lock and turns to grin at Oikawa. “This is Professor M’s growth room, essentially.” He explains. “It’s nothing but a host of tropical plants.”

Oikawa’s eyes go wide at this information, excitement bleeding into his cheeks. He looks like an overgrown child getting to go to Disney for the first time. Iwaizumi feels oddly giddy at being able to make Oikawa look such a way. He pushes the door open and lets Oikawa inside.

The moonlight is the only thing that illuminates the room, but it provides enough light for them. Oikawa’s gaze is wide with wonder as he steps into the room. This is by far their largest greenhouse space, with glass walls stretching high and tall. A beautiful cocoa tree expands out from the middle of the room with a couple pods hanging off its woody limbs. Around it, a splash of various ferns and tropical plants stretch into the space. The entire room is filled with green, minus a small dirt path that leads around the room, and one small koi pond off to the side that doubles as a filtration system for water and as a home for aquatic plants.

“Iwa-chan,” Oikawa whispers, reverent. “This is _beautiful._ Do you know how hard it is to grow some of these plants? _”_ He steps forward and presses his hand to the trunk of the cocoa tree, sliding his fingers up to idly touch one of the low-hanging pods. Iwaizumi bites his cheek to keep himself from smiling as he watches Oikawa wander through the room, fingers brushing over colorful leaves and woody branches.

The moonlight filters in overhead, dusting Oikawa’s milky skin with light, making him look incandescent, surrounded by tropical plants like some sort of wild man. Iwaizumi is hit, again, with how attractive Oikawa really is.

Iwaizumi clears his throat after a couple minutes of comfortable silence pass. “This place is pretty locked down.” He says softly. “We don’t really let anyone back here because a lot of the plants are really sensitive and rare to this region.”

“Hajime?” Oikawa murmurs, voice quiet in the night as he steps back over to Iwaizumi. The sound of his given name takes Iwaizumi by surprise, though he’s not really sure why – they _have_ been in many classes together over the past couple of years, and attendance always includes their first names. “I – Thank you. For this – for listening to me and cheering me up.”

Iwaizumi blushes in embarrassment. He thinks, suddenly, that _this_ Oikawa, the _real_ Oikawa, is actually pretty enjoyable to be around. He wouldn’t mind doing this more often. He looks away from Oikawa’s heavy gaze. “Yeah, of course.” He mumbles. He clears his throat, feeling a flush rise up his neck. “For what it’s worth, uh – I think you did the right thing, breaking up with Sophie. I know it must have been hard, and I think it’s really admirable that you respect both her and yourself enough to be honest.”

Oikawa looks taken aback by Iwaizumi’s validation, but the surprise is quickly veiled by a soft smile and a teasing voice. “Aw, what’s this? Does Iwaizumi think I’m a noble knight, now?”

“Just kidding, I take it all back.” Iwaizumi deadpans even though he’s trying not to smile. “Shittykawa.”

With a soft chuckle, Oikawa doesn’t miss a beat. “It’s okay Iwa-chan, I know I’m perfect and irresistible.”

“Yeah, irresistible to _punch_ , maybe.” Iwaizumi mutters. Then, after a moment, “I mean it, though, about you doing the right thing.”

Oikawa smiles warmly and bumps his shoulder against Iwaizumi’s. The air around them is quiet, almost magical, really, with the sound of silence lingering amongst the plants, the feeling of warm night air against their skin, sight of milky moonlight dusting through the panes of the greenhouse. “I know.” Oikawa murmurs. “I mean it, too – thank you.”

Iwaizumi swallows the odd thickness in his throat, the heavy feeling in his chest. He pokes at a nearby leaf as a distraction and thinks, _yeah, he’s really not too bad, is he?_

\---

A few days after their evening rendezvous, Iwaizumi is finishing up a shift in the greenhouse as usual. His fingernails are caked in soil and his arms are full of Ficus as he pushes the door to the headhouse open with his hip and shoulder. Sweat beads at his temple, the sweltering humidity of the greenhouse less favorable for his body as it is his photosynthetic friends.

“Hey, boss. What did you want me to do with the Ficus with root rot again?”

He looks up and around the plant in his grasp, viridian gaze widening as he takes in the sight before him. His boss’ back is to him, hands motioning emphatically as he carries on a conversation with someone that really, _really_ doesn’t belong in the greenhouse.

Oikawa is leaning against the headhouse table, nodding along to whatever it is his boss is explaining, lips turned up in a small, engaging smile. He is wearing a cream cardigan over his t-shirt – which is _absurd_ because it’s hot as hell in the greenhouse today – and he has his glasses perched on his nose. The sun filters in through the big glass ceiling, dusting the entire room in milky light. Dust moats float in the rays of Iwaizumi’s vision, the smell of wet earth cloying in his nostrils. The entire scene seems to move in slow motion, his senses picking up little details they usually filter out, which is _weird,_ honestly, but Iwaizumi has experienced stranger things, he thinks.

He takes a couple steps forward, the movement catching in Oikawa’s peripheral vision. The man straightens when he turns his gaze completely over to Iwaizumi, straightening up his back and offering one of his most charming smiles. “Iwa-chan!”

At this, Iwaizumi’s boss also turns, smiling at Iwaizumi, who is now scowling at the silly nickname that Oikawa insists on calling him. “Ah, Iwaizumi.” His boss speaks pleasantly. “Your friend and I were just talking about some of the tropical plants in the back house.”

Iwaizumi tries to will himself not to flush as Oikawa smiles, something secretive in the quirk of his lips. The back house where they keep the tropical plants is where Iwaizumi took Oikawa the other night. While Iwaizumi isn’t technically _not_ allowed to take visitors into the greenhouse, he also hasn’t been given explicit permission – especially not for ten o’clock at night under the cover of darkness.

He clears his throat and sets the Ficus on the table, brushing soil off his palms as he does so. “Ah, yeah.” He says. “Oikawa likes tropical plants.”

“Well, it’s no secret, you know? Feel free to take him back there to check it out sometime if you want.” At this, Iwaizumi catches Oikawa’s gaze and fights back a smile as he watches the brunette bite at his lower lip to suppress his own smile. “He was telling me that you two had plans this afternoon? I didn’t know – you can head out early, I can finish up here for you.”

At this, Iwaizumi’s brows raise. He quirks his lips and leans against the table, holding Oikawa’s gaze. “Oh, did we?” He responds. “I must have forgotten. Silly me.”

Oikawa has the decency to flush because they absolutely _did not_ have plans this afternoon but smiles at his boss charmingly even so. “I sure hope you don’t mind me stealing Iwa-chan from you, Bossman-san! I know how much he loves his plants.”

His boss waves him off easily, shooting a teasing smile toward Iwaizumi. “Nah, I think this guy works too much as it is. It’s nice to see him get some social interaction that isn’t with something that photosynthesizes.”

With a groan, Iwaizumi pushes away from the table. “Way to make me sound anti-social.” He mutters, washing his hands in the sink at the side of the room. “I have plenty of friends.”

Oikawa’s lilting voice is musical when he teases, “You know that your plant friends can’t _actually_ talk back to you, right?”

Iwaizumi glares at the taller man when he turns around, drying his hands on a towel. There is still some soil beneath his nails, but he’s pretty sure that’s a permanent side-effect of working at a greenhouse, at this point. “Don’t think I won’t dump an entire pot of soil over your head.” He threatens.

Oikawa squawks indignantly and Iwaizumi’s boss laughs, loud and boisterous. “Okay, okay. You two get out of here before my plants end up victims in your battle.” With that, he scoops up the Ficus that Iwaizumi had hefted in and pushes his way through the door to the other wet rooms to take care of sad plant.

Iwaizumi can feel Oikawa’s gaze on him as he scoops up his backpack. “So, we have plans?”

The smile that graces Oikawa’s face is _blinding._ Something about it makes Iwaizumi’s stomach twist. “Let’s get ice cream! It’s hot out and I want something sweet.”

“And you couldn’t have gone to get ice cream by yourself?”

Oikawa pouts, his bottom lip jutting out like an actual _child._ Iwaizumi finds it oddly charming. “That’s no fun. Besides, I figured Iwa-chan could use a break!”

Iwaizumi narrows his eyes and pushes his way out of the headhouse and into the sunlight waiting outside. Oikawa follows easily. “You’re a manipulative brat, you know that?” Iwaizumi mumbles, though he waits until they’re far enough from the greenhouse that there’s no way his boss could overhear their conversation. “How is it you managed to sweep into _my workplace,_ get permission to see the back house, _and_ lie your way into getting me off early?”

Roses bloom in Oikawa’s cheeks, but he waves a hand flippantly. “Iwa-chan!” He whines, pretending to be offended. “I am _not_ manipulative. I’m _charming._ There’s a difference. It’s amazing what a compliment and a smile can get you. You should try it some time.”

Iwaizumi rolls his eyes. “Oh, give it a rest, Idiotkawa.”

\---

The walk to the ice cream shop is short and filled with gentle, teasing conversation. Iwaizumi feels that he should be alarmed at how easy conversation with Oikawa comes, but he’s not. It’s casual and comfortable, and he would be lying if he said that he wasn’t pleasantly surprised by Oikawa whisking him away from work for the afternoon.

He drops his bag at a table as they step up to the booth to order, both staring up at the menu. After a moment of silence, Iwaizumi glances over at Oikawa. “So what’s your move, here? What sort of tricks do you have up your sleeves that you’re trying to play by getting ice cream with me?”

Oikawa shrugs, still looking at the menu. “I don’t have any ulterior motives.” He says, tone open and honest. “I just enjoy spending time with you. I want to get to know you better.” At this, he looks down from the menu and smiles at Iwaizumi, real and genuine and absolutely heart-shattering.

Iwaizumi swallows the odd flutter of feelings that struggle in his rib cage. He looks away and steps up to the window, placing his order in lieu of answering Oikawa directly. He can feel Oikawa’s amused look on the back of his head. “One vanilla soft serve, please.” He says, and then, “And whatever he’s getting.”

He jerks his head in Oikawa’s direction, motioning for Oikawa to step forward to order. The taller man looks genuinely surprised, eyebrows pulling together cutely. “Oh! Uhm, oh, I wasn’t ready.” He sputters, and Iwaizumi thinks it might be the first time he’s seen Oikawa unprepared for something. It’s stupidly endearing. “A scoop of mint chocolate chip, please.”

The attendant nods, takes Iwaizumi’s card, and returns it after swiping the payment before turning away to prepare their order. Oikawa shuffles back and forth on his feet next to Iwaizumi, a soft feather dust of pink on his high cheek bones. “You didn’t have to buy my ice cream, Iwa-chan.” He says, after a long moment. “Thank you.”

Iwaizumi shrugs. “You’d be surprised what a compliment and a smile can get you, right?” He smiles, something sharp and teasing, and Oikawa looks both delighted and taken aback by Iwaizumi’s words.

It doesn’t take him long to retort though. He offers Iwaizumi a smooth quirk of lips and flutters his lashes in an obviously practiced expression. “Ah, I _knew_ Iwa-chan couldn’t resist my good looks and impeccable charm. How cute!”

He raises a brow as the attendant brings their ice cream back and hands it off to them. “Oh please, I wouldn’t get too ahead of yourself. I mean, what kind of heathen eats mint chocolate chip ice cream?”

“Says the man who got plain _vanilla._ ” Oikawa teases back without missing a beat. “Is that what you prefer in _other_ avenues of your life? Simple and safe and _vanilla?”_

A hot flush rises up Iwaizumi’s neck. He opens his mouth to respond but can’t find a proper retort. He clears his throat and licks at the top of his ice cream cone. “Shut up, Shittykawa.”

Oikawa’s laugh tinkles in delight around them. He bumps his shoulder against Iwaizumi’s and takes a bite of his ice cream. “Don’t worry, Hajime,” He murmurs, eyes _dancing_ , and Iwaizumi’s heart struggles in the captivity of his rib cage, “I’ll be happy to spice up your life.”

Oh, _God,_ Iwaizumi thinks as he feels his flush deepen, are we _flirting?_

Before Iwaizumi can respond, Oikawa changes the subject, which is good because Iwaizumi feels a little like he’s short-circuiting. “So, what do you want to do with your life, Iwa-chan?”

It is a generic question, but a valid one. Iwaizumi licks at his ice cream cone and considers his answer. “I’m thinking of going to get my Masters in Medicinal Botany.” He says after a pause. “Figure it’s a nice way to put my interests in Biology and plants into one neatly-wrapped present.”

Oikawa looks amazed by his answer. He licks the ice cream off of his spoon before pointing it at Iwaizumi. “That is so cool!” He exclaims enthusiastically. “You could, like, grow medicinal marijuana.”

At this, Iwaizumi barks out a laugh, genuine and full. When he looks back at Oikawa, it is with a small smirk and a raised brow. “I think Medicinal Botany is a _bit_ more than that, Shittykawa.” He teases. “Jeez, where is your brain at?”

“Getting high, obviously.”

The response comes at the same time that Iwaizumi goes to take a bite from his cone. It startles another cough of laughter from him and makes him accidentally bump his cone into his nose. Oikawa falls into a fit of giggles at the peak of vanilla ice cream on the tip of Iwaizumi’s nose and Iwaizumi can’t help the way his cheeks warm with a hot blush of embarrassment.

He grabs at a napkin from the bin on the table and swipes at the cold sweet on his skin. Oikawa is laughing so hard that he’s stopped making sound and instead just sits there and _shakes_ violently, shoulders vibrating with mirth, eyes crinkled at the corners, and cheeks pink with delight. The sight is so amusingly endearing that Iwaizumi can’t help but start laughing again, and then they’re both just stuck in a cycle of laughing at each other.

Iwaizumi thinks, idly, that the laughter is probably partially a product of true mirth and also the easing of the odd tension around them. When they finally come to, they both are a bit more relaxed, as if the laughter drained the nerves right out of them.

Iwaizumi doesn’t think too hard as to why he’s feeling this way.

Instead, he props his elbow on the table and leans forward, taking another bite of his cone once it’s safe to do so. “Have you actually ever been high?” He questions curiously. “It’s hard to imagine Mr. Volleyball-Captain-and-Straight-A-Student smoking pot.”

Oikawa tilts his head and smiles cheekily. He takes a scoop of his ice cream and licks it off of his spoon, tip of his tongue deftly hiding the sweet between cold, pink lips. “I’m full of surprises, Hajime.” He teases, fluttering his eyelashes flirtatiously. Iwaizumi scoffs and rolls his eyes. “But yes, I have been high. Not since first year of college, though. I had a bad experience with it triggering my anxiety one night and had to call it quits after that.” He responds, open and honest. “And you? How many times has my favorite tsundere greenhouse employee and future medicinal botanist been high?”

Iwaizumi furrows his brows with a quirk of his lips. “Never.”

Oikawa’s expression is one of disbelief. “There’s no way. You can’t want to be a medicinal botanist and never have gotten high!”

Iwaizumi laughs lightly. “Like I said, there’s more to it than growing weed, Shittykawa.”

“No, no, I know that, _obviously._ ” Oikawa responds. “But, I mean – I don’t know, I feel like to have a desire to study plants that have medicinal properties, you _have_ to have some sort of knowledge of what the plants do. In other words, you need to ingest them and see the effects!”

Rolling his eyes, Iwaizumi says, “That’s literally against _everything_ we know about how scientific testing works. You don’t just _eat_ the science. You test it on _other_ things, like cell lines or mice and shit.”

“But testing on _mice_ doesn’t necessarily equate to _humans.”_

“Okay, _yeah,_ but once you have an idea of how the mice respond, you can do human clinical trials since they're both mammals.” Iwaizumi argues, licking at his ice cream quickly as it begins to drip down over the cone. “Even if I did test things on myself, my sample size would only be one, which isn’t large enough for statistical analysis, _and_ my results might not be credible because who knows if my observations when I’m _high_ are accurate.”

At this, Oikawa starts giggling again, likely at the idea of Iwaizumi high off of eating his scientific specimens. “Okay, okay, I _guess_ I’ll let you win this time.” He jokes. “Though I’m still surprised you’ve never been high.”

Iwaizumi gives a half-hearted shrug. “And I’m surprised that you _have_ been high, so I guess we’re even.” He grins. “So, what do _you_ want to do with your life? Play pro-volleyball and argue with people about how they should lick their science?”

Oikawa rolls his eyes this time and scrapes at the bottom of his bowl to catch any lingering melted ice cream with his spoon. “Mm, maybe. Going pro would be a lovely dream, but I’m not sure if it’s sustainable. I had a bad knee injury in high school and I don’t think I’d be able to keep at it for too long.” He answers. “I’m actually thinking about getting my doctorate in Nanoengineering. I had an internship at a firm that does some of that work last summer, and it was fascinating. I’m particularly interested in creating nanotechnology for the health field, but I’m not too picky.”

For a long moment, Iwaizumi just _stares_ at Oikawa. His gaze travels over the features of Oikawa’s face, and then he says, “What the fuck.”

Oikawa blinks. “What?”

Iwaizumi shoves the remainder of his cone in his mouth, teeth crunching around it. Once he’s finished swallowing the sweet concoction, he shakes his head. “You’re just – you’re something else. You’re just a lot different than I thought you were, if I’m being honest.”

Oikawa smiles something small and soft. “Well, I sure hope you’re _always_ being honest, Iwa-chan, because honest is the best policy!”

With a dramatic eye roll, Iwaizumi tosses his napkin into a nearby trashcan. “Yeah? Are _you_ always honest?” It’s a sarcastic question, but Oikawa takes it and runs with it, anyway.

“I sure try to be.” Oikawa stands and tosses his empty cup into the trash as well. “It’s hard sometimes, though. Being vulnerable, you know? Because that’s what honesty is – being open and vulnerable.”

Again, Iwaizumi is shaken by the realization that he really doesn’t know this man at all. He swallows down the sudden thickness in his throat, their conversation turning into something heavier like a flip of a switch. “I – yeah.” Iwaizumi agrees. “Vulnerability is scary because it gives other people access to hurt you.”

Oikawa nods and falls into step beside Iwaizumi with ease. His shoulder bumps against Iwaizumi’s as they walk. “The other night on the hill,” Oikawa approaches gently. “You mentioned that the last guy you dated really fucked you up. You were vulnerable with him, and he hurt you?”

Iwaizumi is unsure how their conversation has come to _this_. He’s unsure how this entire situation is real, actually, because it’s been three years of them living on the same campus, exploring the same buildings, and sharing the same classes, and yet never before have they ventured past acquaintanceship in any form. And now, they spend one night on a hill and slipping into the greenhouse together, and Oikawa is suddenly reaching into the deepest recesses of Iwaizumi’s heart and pulling out the dusty, cob-webbed boxes that he hasn’t opened up to anyone since his first year of college.

Oikawa notices Iwaizumi’s lingering silence. “Sorry – we don’t have to talk about it.”

Iwaizumi feels a hot flush rise up his neck. “No, it’s – it’s okay.” He murmurs. “Yeah, I really cared about him a lot. It was during our first year. He was a third year on the soccer team. I, uh – well, I knew I swung both ways but had only ever been with girls before. I met him at a party. He was cute and funny and smart, and I fell for him really fast.” He pauses and runs his fingers through his hair. Nervous habit. “When I say _been with girls,_ I mean, like, I had dated girls, but we never had sex. This guy was my first boyfriend _and_ the first person I slept with.”

He watches as Oikawa swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing noticeably. Oikawa’s gaze is intense upon Iwaizumi’s, and he has to look away to continue. “Anyway – physical intimacy has always been really, I don’t know. Emotional for me, I guess? Like, even kissing makes me just _feel_ a lot, so I only do it if I really, _really_ like someone. So, sex was obviously a big thing for me. He knew he was my first boyfriend and all that jazz, and… well, about a month later, I found out he was cheating on me with some guy on the baseball team.”

The look that crosses Oikawa’s face is one of pure _rage_ , like he can’t _believe_ someone would treat Iwaizumi that way. Before he can respond, though, Iwaizumi continues. “But it doesn’t end there, unfortunately. I was obviously pissed and hurt, and I went to break up with him, but he turned it around on me and basically gaslit the shit out of me. He told me that I was crazy and tried to convince me that I was making the cheating up for attention, and basically wouldn’t let me break up with him. I stopped seeing him, but if I went to a party, he’d tell everyone that I was his boyfriend and he’d try to corner me and try to kiss me even though I didn’t want it – it only happened if I went out, he didn’t try to stalk me around campus or anything, thank God.”

Iwaizumi pauses to take a breath before finishing. “But I was always trying to figure out what the hell he was thinking and why he was doing all of it, and I was never able to figure that out. Eventually, I stopped going out to avoid him and he graduated. And here we are.”

There is a long, heavy silence that stretches between them, during which Iwaizumi’s heart beats rapidly in the confines of his rib cage. It’s been _ages_ since he’s told that story, and, of course, the version he had just given Oikawa was simplified, but it still makes him feel raw and vulnerable, like he has opened his heart up and exposed it to the elements.

After a moment, Oikawa speaks. “Thank you for telling me that, Hajime.” He says, sincere and raw, completely different from the playful and charming version of himself he offers to others at school. “You didn’t deserve to be treated that way, and I hope you know that whatever that asshole did _wasn’t_ your fault.” He pauses and looks away as if realizing he is gazing too intensely at Iwaizumi.

His words are spoken with great conviction, as if he feels the need to convince Iwaizumi that they are true. They pierce into Iwaizumi like a dagger – he’s heard them before, he _knows_ them to be true, but it’s been a while since he’s been given that external validation, and apparently he’s been craving it a lot more than he’s realized.

The air between them is heavy and weighted with tension. It lasts for a moment more and then Oikawa turns back to Iwaizumi and smiles, bright and blinding. “There’s a thrift store around the corner that I like to go browse occasionally. Want to pop in on our way back?”

Iwaizumi knows Oikawa is offering the quality time as a distraction and as a method to cheer him up, just as Iwaizumi had done when he found out about Oikawa’s breakup. He smiles softly and nods. “Sure, why not?”

Oikawa’s grin grows impossibly larger. He leads the way until they stop in front of a tiny hole-in-the-wall joint with a bold-font sign over the door that says **Topsy-Turvy Thrift.**

When they step inside, the first thing Iwaizumi notices is that it is _cramped._ There are items piled _everywhere_. The lighting is dim, and it smells like the scent of an old bookstore and wet moss. Oikawa motions for Iwaizumi to follow him into the abyss and Iwaizumi does without question.

“Ah, Tooru.” The woman behind the desk greets with familiarity, smiling fondly at Oikawa and eyeing Iwaizumi with curiosity. “What are you doing here?”

The woman looks oddly familiar, but Iwaizumi is certain he’s never seen her before. Oikawa smiles and flounces up to desk, leaning over the counter to press a soft kiss to the woman’s cheek. “Hey, mama. Iwa-chan and I went for ice cream a couple blocks down, so I figured we could swing in and say hello.”

Iwaizumi suddenly realizes why the woman looks familiar – because she has Oikawa’s eyes and soft, chestnut hair. Or, rather, Oikawa has _hers._ A soft blush filters into his cheeks as he steps forward and offers his hand politely. “Hello, ma’am.” He sputters out, completely caught off guard by the fact that Oikawa has brought him to meet his _mother._ “I’m Iwaizumi Hajime. It’s very nice to meet you.”

Oikawa’s mother smiles at Iwaizumi gently and takes his hand in both of her own. She brings his knuckles up to her lips and presses a soft kiss to them, squeezing them and stunning Iwaizumi at the affectionate gesture. “No need to be so formal, honey. Just call me Auntie.” She releases Iwaizumi’s hand and Oikawa giggles where he leans against the counter, lips curled up in a secretive, mischievous smile. “Tooru rarely brings friends along during my workdays. This is really special.”

Iwaizumi’s flush deepens and he doesn’t miss the soft dust of pink across Oikawa’s cheekbones, either. Oikawa straightens and throws his mother an award-winning smile. “I’m going to show Iwa-chan around for a bit. Is that okay, mama?”

Something in Iwaizumi’s chest squeezes at the affection Oikawa offers his mom. It’s obvious that they’re close, and the thought warms Iwaizumi’s insides. Auntie reaches out to ruffle Oikawa’s hair with a smile. “Sure but remember that you’re not exempt from customer rules. You break it, you buy it, and if you steal it, you’re getting arrested just as fast as the next guy.”

Oikawa rolls his eyes and twists away from the counter. “Ma, we’re not going to steal anything. We’re probably just going to go try on some hats.”

At this, Iwaizumi shoots Oikawa an incredulous expression. “What.”

Oikawa laughs, eyes crinkling at the corners. “C’mon, Iwa-chan! The good stuff is in the back.” He sing-songs, and then he dances down and around a corner, out of sight.

Auntie chuckles at her son’s antics and leans against the counter. She gazes at Iwaizumi with a shudderingly familiar and intense gaze. There is no doubt that Oikawa is this woman’s son. “I give you full permission to slap him if he gets out of control.” She teases jokingly.

Iwaizumi hits her with a curious look and then says, “Can I get that on recording? Just for proof of permission.”

“Iwa-chan!” Oikawa’s voice calls from somewhere in the distance, interrupting their short bonding moment.

Auntie grins at Iwaizumi. “Good luck.” She says, winking. “If you need proof of permission, just send Tooru to me and I’ll gladly tell him that I told you to keep him in line.”

Iwaizumi huffs out a laugh and then begins making his way back to where he thinks Oikawa is waiting for him. This entire experience feels surreal. He feels a bit as if he should be waking from a dream sometime soon, but the dust that catches in his nostrils grounds him and tells him that this is _very_ real.

He finds Oikawa in a little alcove at the very back of the store, surrounded by racks and racks of _hats._ He pauses at the entryway of the alcove. “Absolutely _not.”_

Oikawa has a top hat on his head and a grin on his lips. “Sorry, my mom owns this store, so you don’t really have a choice.” He holds up a fedora and waggles his eyebrows at Iwaizumi. “C’mon, humor me.”

Iwaizumi frowns and steps into the corner of hats. “You’re mom gave me permission to slap you.”

“I’m sure she did.” Oikawa responds without missing a beat, as if this is a normal occurrence. “Just remember that there are _consequences_ to your actions, Hajime. Slapping me comes with a price.”

The look that Oikawa gives him is playful and flirtatious – a look Iwaizumi has come to associate with Oikawa over the years – but there is an edge to his voice, a curl that promises _something_ unknown, and it makes Iwaizumi’s breath stutter in his throat. In Iwaizumi’s distraction, Oikawa swings the fedora up onto Iwaizumi’s crown and wraps his arm around his shoulder. Without warning, Oikawa’s phone is in front of them, snapping a selfie.

“Shittykawa!” Iwaizumi snaps, scowling. Oikawa shows the photo to Iwaizumi from a safe distance to protect his phone. “Delete that.”

“No!” Oikawa refuses, and he just looks _ridiculous_ with the top hat fluffing down his halo of hair. “It’s such a good representation of us. You’re all tsundere and brooding as usual, and I’m a ray of delightful sunshine.”

“Oh my _God.”_ Iwaizumi mutters, tossing the fedora at Oikawa. “I can’t stand you. You’re the worst.”

And just like that, the heavy feeling that had curled itself into Iwaizumi’s gut from their earlier conversation unfurls and dissipates, replaced by something lighter. Oikawa grins and tosses a bright red feathered cap at Iwaizumi. He places a very gaudy, hot-pink, sequenced cowboy hat on his own head and then turns to Iwaizumi and says, “Yeehaw. Giddy up, pardner,” with the worst Texan-American accent Iwaizumi has ever heard.

Iwaizumi absolutely _loses_ it. He laughs so hard that he doubles over and clutches at his stomach, tears stinging the corners of his eyes, and eventually Oikawa is laughing, too. They are loud and obnoxious, and Iwaizumi is absolutely tickled by the man before him.

This whole event feels like a weird, unspoken date, and Iwaizumi tries not to let his mind get too far ahead of him even as fondness settles in his bones. When his laughter subsides, all Iwaizumi says is, “You’re such a weird guy. Is this what you do for fun?”

Oikawa’s cheeks are pink from laughter, eyes dancing with mirth. “Yes. Well, this and play volleyball, of course.” He says easily. “And get ice cream with cute greenhouse workers that aspire to be medicinal botanists but have never smoked pot.”

Iwaizumi can’t come up with a good retort because he gets stuck on the word _cute_ and the ease by which it leaves Oikawa’s mouth. He looks away quickly, feeling a blush rise up his neck. “You’re never going to let that go, will you?”

Oikawa laughs softly and steps closer, bumping his shoulder with Iwaizumi’s and tossing the ridiculous cowboy hat onto a random rack. “Nope.” He says, lips popping around the ‘p’. He reaches out and links his arm with Iwaizumi’s. “Feeling better?”

Iwaizumi feels affection blossom in his chest. He was right – Oikawa _did_ bring him here to cheer him up. Just as Iwaizumi had shared his safe space with Oikawa when he was down, Oikawa was sharing his safe space with him, too. There was something fiercely intimate about the mutual gestures. He smiles, fond and genuine, and knocks his shoulder back against Oikawa’s. “Yeah.” He says softly. “A lot. Thanks.” He pauses, and then says, teasingly, “Weird way to cheer a guy up, though, I’ve got to say.”

Oikawa just rolls his eyes. “You took me to a greenhouse, Iwa-chan. You showed me plants. I showed you weird-ass hats. I think we’re even.”

He tugs Iwaizumi back toward the front of the store then. Auntie sits at the front counter where they left her, a well-worn book in her gentle fingers. She looks up as they approach. “Have fun back there? Nothing too naughty, I hope?”

Iwaizumi flushes, but Oikawa seems unperturbed. He whips out his phone and pulls up the picture of them in the stupid hats. “Look at this gem, mama. Doesn’t Iwa-chan just look so _handsome_ in a fedora?”

His mother giggles and winks at Iwaizumi, who is _mortified._ “I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone pull it off better.”

After a few more teasing jibes, Oikawa kisses his mother on the cheek and they leave. When Iwaizumi checks his watch, it’s apparently been two hours since they left together to get ice cream, and he’s not entirely sure where the time has gone.

They head back to campus in an easy silence until they reach the place where they need to part ways, their dorms sitting on opposite ends of campus. Oikawa offers Iwaizumi a wide, bright smile. “I had a lovely time today, Iwa-chan. We should do it again soon.”

Iwaizumi can’t help the flush that dots his skin. He smiles back and tugs at the strap of his bag. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

God, this is feeling more and more like a date the longer it goes on.

At his words, Oikawa shoots him one of his infamous peace signs and winks. “Okay, well, I’ll see you in class tomorrow?”

Iwaizumi nods and waves farewell. “I guess I’m stuck with you, aren’t I?”

“That you are, Hajime.”

\---

It's about three months into the fall semester, and Iwaizumi reckons it’s about time for an accident to happen in their lab. He’s surprised that there hasn’t been one already, honestly.

A loud shout of surprise comes from the other corner of the lab as the concoction of liquid in a flask begins to sizzle and bubble over. “Shit! Shit, shit, shit!”

Iwaizumi is moving toward the mess before he even registers it. Kindaichi frantically waves his gloved hands around in the air, obviously very frantic about what the next course of action should be. Kunimi watches the liquid drip off the counter and onto the floor with a bland expression.

“I think we added too much water.”

Iwaizumi shoos them away from the mess just as Oikawa appears next to him. “Well that explains it. You’re not supposed to add the water to the acid – you’re supposed to do it the other way around to avoid the boiling hullaballoo.”

Kindaichi flushes in embarrassment. He vaguely remembers their professor explaining that at some point. Iwaizumi smiles reassuringly. “It’s okay – honest mistake, right? Oikawa will go get the professor to deal with this. You guys can probably just tag on with us for the rest of the lab.”

Kindaichi looks relieved and grateful. Kunimi agrees, looking rather neutral in the matter. Oikawa looks mildly annoyed, probably because Iwaizumi just volunteered him to go fetch the instructor, but he doesn’t protest.

A few minutes later, they are all wrapped around the lab bench where Iwaizumi and Oikawa usually sit. Oikawa begins picking up where they left off mixing some liquids together to put over their stir plate. Kunimi is busy writing notes in his lab notebook when Kindaichi turns to Iwaizumi and says, “Sorry about this, Iwaizumi.”

Iwaizumi offers him a gentle smile. “It’s totally okay. It happens, and it’s not like we were near the end of the experiment anyway.”

Kindaichi’s cheeks blossom with a sweet flush. Iwaizumi thinks that he might have a soft spot for the kid. “Thanks.” He says. “It’s cool to get to watch you guys do this up close. You’re always so efficient!”

Oikawa huffs next to Iwaizumi, drawing his attention. He drops a stir bar into the mixture and sets it onto the plate, turning it on and watching the small magnetic bar twirl around in the solution to mix it together. “No thanks to Iwa-chan,” He jokes. “If it were up to him, we’d sit here rereading the instructions twenty times to make sure we’re doing everything right and we wouldn’t actually _do_ anything.”

“Shut up, asshole!” Iwaizumi snaps defensively. “I just like to make sure I know what the hell is going on before I start throwing around chemicals.”

“That makes sense, though.” Kindaichi pipes in, looking little out of place. “It’s very responsible. I think that’s one of your best traits, Iwaizumi.”

The compliment catches Iwaizumi off guard. Before he can get his thoughts back together to respond, their instructor comes over and pulls Kunimi and Kindaichi aside to discuss something with them – probably more in depth details of how to continue this experiment – and Oikawa leans forward, tilting his head so that he’s in Iwaizumi’s direct line of vision.

“Oh ho?” He teases. “What’s this? Seems like Iwa-chan has a little underclassman admirer.”

Iwaizumi feels his cheeks flush with heat, embarrassed. “Oh please, that’s ridiculous. He was just making conversation.”

Oikawa raises a brow behind his safety goggles, lips tugging up in a smirk. “I don’t think so.” He croons. “I think he’s got a little crush on you. But,” He pauses, smirk widening into something broad and distractingly flirtatious. “He’s right – your responsible nature _is_ one of your defining traits. So responsible and _vanilla._ ”

At this, Iwaizumi feels his blush deepen, heart picking up in his ribcage. Even so, he rolls his eyes. “It almost seems to me like you’re compensating for something.” He jibes back, leaning an elbow on the lab bench and raising a brow. “Perhaps _you’re_ the vanilla one. Self-conscious?” He teases, tone light. “You don’t need to be, I like you anyway.”

The words are out of his mouth before he can think to filter them. He’s not sure what it is about Oikawa that makes his brain-to-mouth filter completely shut off, but it’s embarrassing. Oikawa looks at him with comically wide eyes from behind his goggles, pink patches blooming on his skin from Iwaizumi’s admission.

It only takes Oikawa a moment to recover though, and then he’s grinning again, saccharine and charming. “Iwa-chan! At least take me to dinner first before you start with the dirty talk.”

Iwaizumi coughs out a laugh, cheeks warm with a blush but lips pulling up despite his embarrassment. Something in his chest feels light at the banter. “Hey, I _already_ bought you ice cream.”

Oikawa tuts. “Well, I’m a solid two-dates-before-things-get-fun kind of guy, so looks like you’ll have to try again.”

It feels weird, the blatant flirting, but not bad. Iwaizumi likes it and that self-admission takes him a bit by surprise. He can’t tell if Oikawa is really joking of if their ice cream and thrift store excursion really _was_ a date – because it sure as fell had felt like one.

 _Don’t be silly, Iwaizumi,_ his brain chides, _it’s not a date unless both parties are aware and agree that it’s one._

“Ah, that’s too much work.” Iwaizumi responds, shutting his thoughts down. “I’ll pass.”

Oikawa’s indignant squawk resonates through the room and Iwaizumi can’t stop the laugh that bubbles from the deep recesses of his belly, warm and rich.

\---

At some point in the past few months, Oikawa’s name popping up on his phone’s home screen has become a regular event. Of course, at first the messages were only related to their shared academic experience, but as time has progressed, so have the communications.

Iwaizumi is in the middle of watering the plants in his dorm room when his phone buzzes on his bed. He glances at it and sees Oikawa’s name light up the screen and can’t help the fond smile that comes to his lips. He finishes up with the arrowhead plant he’s checking on, snipping off a couple yellowed leaves and rotating it – arrowheads are rather phototropic, chasing after and bending toward the sunlight, so he has to rotate it at least once a week to keep it from only growing in one direction.

He still needs to tend to his spider plants – he has three different varieties – and his pothos – he has four varieties of those – and his lipstick plant, all tucked safely on his window sill, spilling over the edge. He glances over his shoulder to eye the trailing philodendron and collection of succulents on his bookshelf. He needs to check on those, too. He’s been meaning to take a couple of the succulent pups and start a couple new pots, but he’ll need to make a little more room on the window sill so they get enough light as the roots take, and –

His phone buzzes again. He sets his watering can on his desk and takes the two steps over to his bed, scooping up his phone.

 **[Oikawa – Lab Partner]:** iwa-chan! look at this pic of you that i found

_Image attached._

It is a picture of a small, round, spiky cactus popping up among some rocks. Someone has placed sunglasses on the top of the cactus’ crown.

Iwaizumi is unimpressed, as usual, by Oikawa’s texting style – he’s one of the smartest people Iwaizumi knows, so why does he text like he’s fourteen, refusing proper capitalization? He notices that he still hasn’t changed Oikawa’s name in his phone and takes a moment to do so before texting back.

 **[Hajime]:** What the fuck, Shittykawa?

 **[Shittykawa]:** he looks like you! he’s so smol and cute but he’s trying to act rough and tough with his lil spikes

Iwaizumi feels a flush flutter beneath his skin. He’s unsure if it’s out of annoyance that Oikawa has called him small or in response to being called cute.

 **[Hajime]:** I’m not small

 **[Shittykawa]:** oh i’m sure you’re not, hajime ;)

This time, Iwaizumi’s flush is from embarrassment. He frowns and licks at his suddenly dry lips, reading over Oikawa’s message a couple times before deciding to respond.

 **[Hajime]:** Stop being a perv

 **[Shittykawa]:** aw, i bet iwa-chan is blushing right now. he’s so cute when he gets embarrassed

 **[Hajime]:** Stop talking about me as if I’m not the one you’re texting, dumbass

 **[Shittykawa]:** but i like making you blush, hajime

Iwaizumi has to put the phone down. His heart is pounding in his chest and he’s not sure why – it must be from embarrassment, he reasons. Oikawa is stupidly flirtatious with everyone, and Iwaizumi tries to remind himself of that as he wills his heart to chill out.

He turns to go back to taking care of his plants, but feels a little bad leaving Oikawa on read after that last message, so he picks his phone back up and presses at the keys more aggressively than necessary when he responds.

 **[Hajime]:** You’ll have to work harder to get me to blush, but good try

He doesn’t know why he sends it – he really, truly doesn’t. He’s opening the door for Oikawa to step right in and embarrass him further, which is _stupid._ But – _but_ – there’s a part of Iwaizumi that always enjoys their flirtatious jibes.

 **[Shittykawa]:** hajime

Iwaizumi stares at the phone for a full minute after Oikawa responds, but the three little dots indicating that Oikawa is typing continue to flash at the bottom of the screen. Iwaizumi is slightly fearful of what’s to come. He drops his phone back on his bed and goes back to tending to his plants to calm his oddly frazzled nerves.

 **[Shittykawa]:** how risqué, here i thought you were all vanilla but you’re showing your true colors

 **[Shittykawa]:** i don’t think i actually have to work that hard to get you to blush though

 **[Shittykawa]:** when is the last time you let someone take care of you, hajime?

 **[Shittykawa]:** like /really/ take care of you

 **[Shittykawa]:** like press you up against the wall and kiss you nice and slow and deep

 **[Shittykawa]:** the kind of kiss that makes you just kind of melt, you know?

 **[Shittykawa]:** makes you wanna let your head fall back and let the other person just /touch/ you, tease you, make you so needy

 **[Shittykawa]:** when’s the last time someone made you feel like that? made you feel desperate, hajime?

As the string of messages progresses, Iwaizumi’s previous embarrassment increases exponentially. He can feel heat on the back of his neck, feel the weight of his tongue in his mouth. Something drips low in his belly as his mind supplies him with images he really, _really_ doesn’t need. His breath is heavy in his chest, fingers itching.

Before his brain catches up with his actions, he swipes over Oikawa’s contact on his phone and presses the _call_ button.

Oikawa picks up on the first ring. When he speaks, there is a teasing lilt to his words. “Ah, Iwa-chan? What a pleasant surprise.”

“What is _wrong_ with you?”

There is a tinkling laugh that rings out from Oikawa’s end of the line. “Probably too many things to list.” He jokes lightly. “But are you blushing, Iwa-chan?”

Iwaizumi’s flush deepens. “ _No.”_ He growls, lying. “Fuck off, asshole. What the fuck.”

Oikawa laughs again, and Iwaizumi feels some kind of way about the giddiness that bubbles in his chest at the sound. “Iwa-chan is such a bad liar.” His voice is low, deeper than usual. The visual aids that Iwaizumi’s brain supplied in response to the texts pop back up into his mind’s eye. _Fuck._

“I’m going to throw you into the lake at the next opportunity.”

“Ooh, talk _dirty_ to me, Hajime.” Oikawa purrs, full of flirtation, and Iwaizumi’s heart somersaults.

Iwaizumi hangs up on him. He can almost hear Oikawa’s laughter all the way across campus.

\---

Despite the obnoxiously flirtatious text messages, things are normal between them when they see each other in person next.

“Iwa-chan! Come to Kuroo’s party with me on Friday!”

“No.”

The whine that follows is predictable. Oikawa throws his arms over Iwaizumi’s shoulders, dangling off of him like an over-sized child. Iwaizumi shrugs him off. “We’re in lab, asshole. C’mon, you’re going to knock over our supplies.”

Oikawa huffs, but does as requested. His lab coat ruffles as he moves to slip his goggles onto his face. “It’ll be fun, Iwa-chan. Please?”

Iwaizumi glances at him from the corner of his eye. He doesn’t acknowledge the question. “Pass me the gloves.”

“ _Iwa-chan.”_ Oikawa whines, passing Iwaizumi the protective equipment. “Seriously?”

At this, Iwaizumi turns to raise a brow at Oikawa with a serious expression. “Yes. This shit is a gross skin irritant. There’s no way in hell I’m working with it without gloves, Shittykawa.”

He manages to keep his face completely straight until Oikawa looks at him with an incredulous expression that falls into laughter. He reaches forward and gently pushes at Iwaizumi’s shoulder, fingers ghosting down his arm as they retreat. Iwaizumi tries not to pay too much attention to the lingering touch. “That’s not what I meant, and you know it.”

Iwaizumi tuts. “Did I? You weren’t particularly explicit with what you were asking about.”

Oikawa rolls his eyes and snaps his own gloves on. He turns to Iwaizumi with a strangely intense expression. “Will you please come to the party with me? I’d really like it if you came.”

His tone is open and honest and makes Iwaizumi’s heart flutter in the cavity of his chest. He’s never been good at turning down such genuine requests for company, and, quite honestly, he’s intrigued. He hasn’t been to a party in a while, and he’s certainly never been to one that Oikawa has also been at. He swallows the strange flood of feelings back down his throat and focuses on the task in front of him. “Fine.”

“Really?!” Oikawa exclaims, flailing his arms around with far too much enthusiasm. Iwaizumi winces and glares at him in return.

“Calm down, asshole, you’re going to knock our shit over.” He hisses, cheeks flushing hotly. “And yes, I’ll go to the stupid party with you, Jesus.”

Oikawa’s happy expression makes his stomach flip. He really hopes he doesn’t regret his decision come Friday.

\---

At this point, Iwaizumi shouldn’t be surprised when Oikawa’s fluffy brunette head of hair pops up over the tops of a few rose bushes. “Yahoo, Iwa-chan!”

Iwaizumi huffs out an exaggerated exasperated sigh and makes sure to point his hose in a direction that won’t splatter Oikawa with water as he delicately maneuvers around the greenery of the wet room. He stops when he is right next to Iwaizumi, smiling. “How are you today?”

Iwaizumi gives Oikawa an amused quirk of his lips. “I’m doing fine.” He responds with a bit of a laugh. “You could have just texted me, you know. You don’t have to randomly come visit me at work.”

Oikawa shrugs and reaches out to run his fingers over the leaves of the rose bush in front of him, careful to avoid the thorns. “Please. When you’re at work, you’re never answering your phone. I’m not a particularly patient person, Iwa-chan.”

At this, Iwaizumi laughs fully. “Right, how could I forget that you’ll cease to exist the moment you’re not given enough attention.” He teases.

“It’s a true tragedy.” Oikawa says, dramatically draping his hand over his forehead. “Alas, as long as Iwa-chan keeps giving me the attention I deserve, I will live a long and happy life.”

“Don’t make me spray you with the hose, Shittykawa.”

Oikawa squeaks. He throws his hands up in mock surrender and offers Iwaizumi a placating smile. “No need to get trigger happy, Iwa-chan!” He teases. “I’m actually here for a reason _other_ than to remind you that the plants can’t talk back to you.”

Iwaizumi gives Oikawa a warning look, waving the hose minutely as a threat. He’s really, _really_ tempted to spray Oikawa with the hose. He lets his gaze slide over Oikawa’s body quickly, thinking about how much he’d look like a drowned rat, fluffy hair curled over his forehead, pout on his lips. He’s wearing a white V-neck, loosely tucked into jeans – probably the most casual outfit Iwaizumi has ever seen him in, honestly – which would cling to his pale skin, likely outline the lean cut of muscle honed from years of volleyball.

He cuts his gaze away from Oikawa abruptly, halting his thoughts. “Amazing, you actually have a purpose.” He responds, sarcasm lacing his words. “What’s up?”

Oikawa steps over to a different row of plants and admires a few budding roses. “I was actually looking for Bossman-san, but he isn’t around right now, I presume. I have a plant-related problem that I was hoping someone could advise me on.”

This is not what Iwaizumi expects Oikawa to say. It takes him by surprise in the best way possible. “Well, I can’t promise that I’ll have any fruitful feedback, but I can try to help.”

Oikawa beams and claps his hands together. “Great! I have a _Philodendron patriciae,_ you know, a long leaf philodendron, which was really quite hard for me to get my hands on. She’s one of my favorites, but her leaves are starting to spot and none of the tricks that usually work for my other plants are really doing anything to help.”

Iwaizumi works his way around to a different bench to continue watering the rest of the room. “I’d say that’s usually a watering issue. That’s a tropical plant, right? I assume you give her a lot of water then – maybe try letting the soil completely dry out before watering? If that doesn’t help, it’s probably a nutrient imbalance.”

Oikawa hums thoughtfully. “I already cut back on the watering, but I suppose I can try doing so even more.” He smiles, small and genuine. “Thanks, Iwa-chan!”

Iwaizumi bites back the instant retort on his tongue of _you could have just texted me about that, idiot_ because Oikawa looks genuinely grateful and he can’t bring himself to poke a hole in the visage. “Yeah, no problem.” He shrugs.

With a playful smile, Oikawa sidles up beside Iwaizumi, fingers dusting over his cheek. Iwaizumi startles a bit at the sudden, albeit gentle, touch. His eyes widen as he realizes how close they are, fingers clenching around the hose in his hand.

“You had soil on your cheek.” Oikawa offers in explanation, fingers ghosting down over Iwaizumi’s jaw, skimming the delicate skin of his neck before dropping away. Iwaizumi feels a shiver run through him from the delicate, barely-there grace of Oikawa’s fingertips. Then, with a blinding smile, Oikawa steps away, putting space between them, effectively giving Iwaizumi’s heart whiplash. “I’m looking forward to the party tomorrow night!”

Iwaizumi blinks a few times, coming back to himself. He feels an unbidden flush rise up his throat. “Uh, yeah. Me, too, I guess.”

At this, Oikawa frowns slightly. He tucks his arms behind his back, lacing his fingers together. “You guess?”

The setter looks as if he’s pouting, as if he’s _disappointed_ in Iwaizumi’s lack of enthusiasm. Something in Iwaizumi’s stomach flutters at the thought. He wonders, not for the first time, how they have gotten to this point – this odd friendship that they share after two years of acquaintanceship and one night sneaking into a greenhouse together. It’s a strange feeling, he thinks, because now, he can’t really imagine how his days would go without Oikawa’s constant bombardment of texts or annoyances during work.

He doesn’t want Oikawa to be disappointed. He doesn’t know why, but at least he knows it to be true.

Iwaizumi clears his throat. “I mean – I _am_ excited.” He tries again. “I’m excited to spend time with you.” He clarifies truthfully, flush dusting his cheeks. “I’m just not a huge party person. It’s been a while since I’ve gone to one.”

Oikawa seems pleased with this response. His smiles, slow and teasing, and gives Iwaizumi his most flirtatious expression. “Aw, don’t worry, Iwa-chan. I’ll be your knight in shining armor. I will make sure to defend your honor and keep you safe.”

Iwaizumi tries to fight the smile that threatens to pull his lips up, but he does a poor job at it. He ends up grinning, wide and rogue, and then says, “That’s it, Shittykawa. You’re getting hosed.”

Oikawa shouts as Iwaizumi playfully shoots water in his direction, purposefully missing. His protests can be heard all the way from the headhouse as he sprints out of the room, Iwaizumi’s laughter ringing out in echo behind him.

\---

“Okay, but what on God’s green Earth was Ukai talking about in this morning’s lecture?”

Sugawara Koushi, fellow third year Biology major, steps up to the counter after Iwaizumi pays for his coffee. “I mean, seriously, I think he was speaking a different language.”

Iwaizumi shrugs and slips his wallet back into his back pocket. “I don’t know, Suga. Your guess is as good as mine, honestly. I’m just hoping we don’t build too much on what he started today and move past it.”

Suga nods in agreement, his pretty silver hair bobbing with the movement. He was Iwaizumi’s roommate in their freshman year and they’ve remained close friends ever since. Suga is the type of person who makes you feel at ease no matter where you are but is the first step in and start a fight if honor and moral demands it. He’s _also_ the first one to try and cause some sort of mischievous chaotic disaster from the shadows, which Iwaizumi has been caught in one too many times at this point in their friendship.

The barista, tall and broad with dark hair and sharp eyes, returns from the back where he had gone to grab some more scones for the display box. Suga’s eyes light up. “Ah, Daichi! Looking as strong and dependable as ever this morning. Been busy today?”

Iwaizumi rolls his eyes but smiles with fond amusement as he watches Suga shamelessly flirt with Daichi. He’s had a crush on the guy for a year now, and from the flush on Daichi’s cheeks, Iwaizumi would be _very_ surprised if it’s not mutual. The other barista gives Iwaizumi his drink and he steps away from the counter to commandeer a couple available plush seats while he waits for Suga.

Suga joins Iwaizumi after a couple of minutes, plopping down on one of the chairs with a long, lovestruck sigh. “Man, Daichi is incredible. I bet he’s strong enough to carry me with one arm. Do you know how hot that is?”

Iwaizumi snorts and rolls his eyes, taking a sip of his coffee. “Jesus, how thirsty _are_ you?” He jibes. “Just ask him out already, what the fuck. You two have been dancing around each other for the past year.”

Suga looks as if he’s about to respond, but a tinkling voice interrupts their conversation. “Iwa-chan!” Oikawa’s familiar tone chimes through the air, making Iwaizumi freeze mid-drink. “What a lovely surprise!”

Iwaizumi looks up from his seat to see Oikawa flouncing over toward them, a wide, bright smile radiating across his lips. Iwaizumi feels his heart squeeze at the sight. Two other men, both somehow taller than Oikawa, trail along behind his enthusiastic wake with interested expressions.

“Ooh, is this _the_ Iwa-chan?” One of them drawls, smirking, his mess of bedhead hair making him seem even taller. “It’s about damn time we got a face to go with the name.”

The second man, broad and wild-eyed with silver hair to match, grins. He leans an elbow on Oikawa’s shoulder. “Well, I’ll be damned. Oikawa certainly wasn’t lying.”

At this, Iwaizumi’s brow quirks up. “I’m not entirely sure I want to know what Oikawa’s been saying about me.” He says, amusement in his tone. “And it’s Iwaizumi.”

Oikawa, flustered, pinches both of men in the arm and glares. They both grimace at the pain. “Iwa-chan, this is Kuroo.” He motions to the tall man with the crows’ nest of hair. “He’s the one throwing the party tomorrow! And this is Bokuto. They’re two of my teammates!”

Iwaizumi smiles politely, feeling self-conscious about the notion that Oikawa has apparently talked to these two people about him before. “Nice to meet you.” He reaches out a hand in greeting.

Kuroo grins and clasps Iwaizumi’s palm in a firm shake, Bokuto following suit. “It certainly _is_ nice to meet you. Glad you’ll be coming to the party tomorrow. Oikawa has been whining like a baby about wanting to invite you to one for weeks.”

“Yeah, man. But now he won’t shut up about how excited he is that you’re coming!” Bokuto pipes in, voice oddly enthusiastic.

“ _Okay.”_ Oikawa shoves into the conversation, _literally_ , pushing Bokuto and Kuroo away from Iwaizumi. There is a flush on his cheeks that makes Iwaizumi grin, though he’s not sure why. “I’m going to stop you both _right now_ and we really should be getting to practice, anyway.” He huffs, flustered. He gives Iwaizumi a small smile, almost bashful in its entirety. “I’ll see you later, Iwa-chan?”

Iwaizumi clears his throat as Kuroo snickers from the side, leaning over to whisper something in Bokuto’s ear. He swallows the odd flutter in his chest and nods. “Yeah, have fun at practice.” He nods at Kuroo and Bokuto in farewell. “See you guys tomorrow, I guess.”

Bokuto throws Iwaizumi a thumbs-up and Kuroo grins. “Hell yeah.” Kuroo agrees, waving. He nods at Suga, who has been silently observing the exchange. “Hey, Suga. Lookin’ good.”

Suga smiles charmingly and winks. “Would you expect anything less, Kuroo?”

Kuroo laughs and then Oikawa corrals them to shoo them away. He smiles over his shoulder at Iwaizumi with a wave farewell, leaving Iwaizumi and Suga alone in their corner of the café once again.

Suga gives Iwaizumi approximately five seconds of peace before he turns and stares at Iwaizumi with intent, a wide, mischievous smile on his lips. “So, care to tell me why our beloved men’s volleyball captain seems so interested in you? Or how about this party you’re apparently going to with him? You haven’t been to a party since our first year! And I know you’ve been avoiding parties because of what happened with your ex.”

Iwaizumi flushes, hot and embarrassed. He takes a swig of his coffee, still too hot to really drink, and lets the burn distract him. “He’s not interested in me.” He mutters. “And I don’t know, he invited me to go and I thought maybe it’d be fun. He’s actually a really cool guy.”

Suga’s grin widens into something sharp and wicked. Iwaizumi fears that he’s not prepared for what he’s about to say, as is often the case with Suga. He’s a wild card if there ever was one. “Oh yeah, I’m sure it’d be fun to let him stick his tongue down your throat, right?”

Blood rushes to Iwaizumi’s head so quickly, he thinks he might faint. “ _What?”_ He sputters, embarrassed. “Of course _not.”_

A tinkling laugh leaves Suga’s throat, light and airy. Even in his embarrassment, Iwaizumi sees Daichi turn toward the sound from his post at the counter. Those two _really_ need to get their shit together. Suga swirls his coffee in his cup and takes a sip. “Oh, my bad. I bet you were thinking more along the lines of third base, not just silly kissing.”

Iwaizumi does not regret it when he immediately stands and stalks off without another word, flush high on his cheeks, heart beating frantically in his chest, and Suga’s laughter trailing after him as he goes.

\---

When Iwaizumi steps out in front of his dorm to meet Oikawa before the party, he is stricken by how _attractive_ he looks.

It’s a simple outfit – dark jeans, light V-neck t-shirt, buffed shoes, and leather jacket – but it looks _good. Oikawa_ looks good. He really needs to find a way to stop getting caught off guard by this.

Oikawa beams at Iwaizumi as he approaches, and the radiance of his smile only adds to the effect. Iwaizumi’s heart hammers in his chest oddly, Suga’s teasing ringing in his mind. “Hey.” He greets plainly.

Oikawa slips his hands into the pockets of his jacket. “Hey there.” He gives Iwaizumi a once over. “You look good. Trying to impress someone?”

Right off the bat, he’s flirting. Iwaizumi flushes – he’s wearing dark jeans and a tighter-fit shirt than usual, one he only really wears when he’s going out, but it’s still nothing special. “I can still change my mind about going, you know.” He challenges.

There is a mischievous glint in Oikawa’s eye. “You could, but you don’t want to.” He teases. “Plus, Kuroo and Bokuto are really excited to see you again.”

With that, Iwaizumi finds himself being led toward the outskirts of campus where the frat houses live. It’s not a long walk, and the air is cool and comfortable. They make idle chitchat until they come up on the row of frat houses. It is obvious which one the party is at because it’s the only one lit up and crowded with people.

Iwaizumi feels his stomach clench nervously. This _really_ isn’t his scene anymore.

Beside him, Oikawa notices his sudden change in disposition. He reaches over and runs his fingers under Iwaizumi’s arm lightly. “C’mon.” He says softly. “There’s not nearly as many people there as you think. They all like to hang outside, mostly.”

Oikawa leads him inside, getting a few call outs from people Iwaizumi doesn’t know, reminding him that _this,_ too, is a side of Oikawa that Iwaizumi hasn’t seen before. They head to the kitchen and Oikawa fixes himself a drink and gives Iwaizumi a bottle of water when he declines the offer of alcohol. It only takes three whole minutes for a familiar head of dark hair to pop up behind Oikawa.

Kuroo grins lazily and wraps an arm around Oikawa’s waist. He is taller than the setter, so he easily rests his head on Oikawa’s shoulder and winks at Iwaizumi. “Hey there, babe. We’ve been waiting for you to arrive.”

Oikawa laughs lightly and shrugs Kuroo off with a roll of his eyes. “I’m sure you have. The party doesn’t start until I get here, after all.”

Iwaizumi groans. “I hope you know that you’re not nearly as cool as you think you are.”

At this, Kuroo laughs, loud and infectious. Iwaizumi can’t help but grin in return. “I like him.” Kuroo says to Oikawa. Then, he turns to Iwaizumi. “I like you. You should stick around, chat with me a bit.”

Oikawa glares at Kuroo, lips forming a pout. He reaches out and pinches the sensitive skin of Kuroo’s side. “ _Hey.”_ He hisses, a clear threat in his voice that makes Iwaizumi raise a brow. “Back off. Take your nest hair and go seduce someone else.”

Kuroo just chuckles and winks at Iwaizumi. “Don’t worry, Captain.” He says easily. “You know I’m a taken man. Kenma is the only man I need in my life.”

It is at that moment that Bokuto suddenly appears, popping up behind Iwaizumi and tossing an easy arm around his shoulder. “Hey, hey, hey!” He greets with every bit of enthusiasm Iwaizumi recalls from yesterday. “Glad you made it, pretty boy!”

At first, Iwaizumi assumes Bokuto is directing his comment at Oikawa, but after a moment of Bokuto’s intense gaze on him, he realizes that the _pretty boy_ being references is _himself._ He sputters for a response. “I’m sorry – what?”

Bokuto and Kuroo both laugh at his response. Bokuto lets his arm drop from Iwaizumi’s shoulder and leans against the counter, reaching over to grab a bag of chips. “Sorry, we’ve gotten in the habit of calling you that because Oikawa wouldn’t shut up about how pretty you are for a solid month.”

“ _Bokuto!”_

Oikawa looks absolutely betrayed, but Iwaizumi is delighted by the flush that adorns his cheeks. He grins cheekily and takes a swig of his water, making sure to catch Oikawa’s embarrassed gaze. “Well, _this_ is news to me. Care to share anything else you’ve been keeping from me, _Tooru?”_

“Iwa-chan!” Oikawa huffs, looking every bit like a child about to stomp his foot in a pout. “You’re _my_ friend, you’re supposed to be on _my_ side.”

Iwaizumi grins. “Nah, this is _way_ more fun.”

Bokuto laughs and offers Iwaizumi a fist bump. “I like him. Let’s keep him.”

Oikawa runs a hand through his hair, looking far more distressed than usual. A burst of affection blossoms through Iwaizumi’s chest. He steps forward and tugs Oikawa toward him so he doesn’t have to yell over the music and hum of chatting, his lips close to Oikawa’s ear. “Don’t worry, Shittykawa. I’m only here for you.”

His words are light and teasing, maybe even a little purposefully flirtatious, but they are true, and the corner of Oikawa’s lips curl up in a small smile, his gaze cutting to the side and cheeks dusting a darker pink.

Iwaizumi isn’t entirely sure what’s happening between them, but it makes warmth curl in his belly, makes his lips want to tug up involuntarily.

They mingle for a little while before Oikawa excuses himself to use the restroom. Iwaizumi enjoys laughing with Kuroo and Bokuto – and an incredibly pretty boy who shows up, introduced very enthusiastically as Akaashi by one _very_ obviously lovestruck Bokuto. He meets a short firecracker of a boy named Yaku who finds every excuse he can to kick Kuroo in some way, and a couple other of Oikawa’s teammates – a tall guy with bushy brows, Matsukawa, and his boyfriend, Hanamaki, a boy with a lazy grin and bright bubblegum-pink hair.

Iwaizumi enjoys meeting everyone, enjoys chatting and cutting up, because it’s something he hasn’t done in a long, _long_ time, but – _but_ – he starts to feel Oikawa’s absence after a while. He couldn’t possibly still be in the bathroom. He glances at his watch and realizes that it’s almost been an hour since Oikawa wandered off.

He asks where he can find the bathroom and Bokuto offers to show him the way, but Iwaizumi rejects the offer in favor of simple directions. He wanders through the throngs of people, idly heading toward the restroom. After a couple minutes of wandering, Iwaizumi steps into what he assumes is the living area, and his gaze finds Oikawa in the crowd easily.

Iwaizumi’s breath catches in his throat, his eyes wide as he takes in the scene before him. Oikawa is leaning back against the wall next to a crusty sofa, pretty brown eyes half-lidded, lips turned up into one of his signature seductive smirks. There is a man with dark hair boxing him in against the wall – someone that Iwaizumi doesn’t recognize, which isn’t too surprising. One of Oikawa’s arms perches upon the man’s shoulder, a red solo cup hanging neatly from his fingers. He tilts his head back as he laughs at something the man says, and the stranger takes the opportunity to lean forward, lips skimming against Oikawa’s jaw.

It is at that moment that Oikawa’s lids crack back open, something of an exhale on his lips, and he looks over the man’s shoulder, gaze falling onto Iwaizumi’s, hitting him like a punch in the gut.

Iwaizumi’s eyes dart away and then back. His shoulders feel tight, tense, and he’s not entirely sure what he’s supposed to _do_ , but he doesn’t feel great about this development. Actually, he feels really _shitty,_ if he’s honest, something twisting in his gut like the curl of jealousy and, oddly enough, betrayal, even though he has no right to feel such a way because they’re just friends.

Oikawa’s eyes widen and he straightens up, his arm slipping from over the other man’s shoulder. He looks as if he’s about to push the man away and come over to Iwaizumi, but Iwaizumi absolutely does _not_ want that right now because he still feels a bit like he might throw up, so he turns on his heel quickly, knocking into a couple people in his haste, and, quite literally, _flees_ the scene.

He drops his bottle in an overfilled trash bin, feeling slightly guilty because _God,_ frat parties must be terrible for the environment, _what the fuck,_ but he pushes the thought away as quickly as he pushes his way through the throngs of college students until he makes his way to the front door.

The air is sticky and humid, the first licks of summer penetrating the air even though the sky is dark and the stars twinkle over his head. His feet feel heavy as he stomps his way down the front steps and down the driveway, forcing the heavy air into his lungs.

Jesus, why does his chest _ache?_

It doesn’t make sense, honestly. Well, that’s not true – it _does_ make sense. He’s never been very good at lying to himself, and he’s attracted to Oikawa. The man is magnetizing, both excessively flirtatious and charming, and also stupidly geeky. He’s athletic and intelligent and _goddamn_ funny, and, as much as Iwaizumi hates to admit it, really _has_ added some spice to his life.

Iwaizumi likes him.

That’s as simple as it gets, really. He likes him. He has a crush on Oikawa fucking Tooru, and some sort of delusional hope had apparently twined itself through the spaces in his ribs and wrapped itself around his still-beating heart, making him think that the time they’ve been spending together, the soft brushes of skin and flirtatious texts and charming smiles meant something – meant that maybe it was mutual.

Iwaizumi brushes a tired hand over his face. He should know better than to try and read someone else’s actions.

He shoves his hands in his pockets and takes a deep breath, trying to will the ache in his chest to ease up, but it doesn’t. He tilts his head back to gaze up at the stars, annoyed that all he can think about is Oikawa and his stupid facts about the stars.

“Iwa-chan!”

_Fucking dammit._

Heavy footsteps come up behind Iwaizumi, thudding loudly against the pavement, fast approaching. The dull sound of music thrums from the party behind them. Iwaizumi’s heart squeezes quickly in his chest as Oikawa appears beside him.

The pretty boy is breathing heavier than usual. Iwaizumi thinks he may have actually run after him, which is truly ridiculous. Iwaizumi comes to a stop and turns to look at Oikawa, brows furrowed in slight annoyance. “What are you doing?”

Oikawa tilts his head, takes a moment to catch his breath. “What do you mean?”

Iwaizumi looks away, not trusting his mouth to speak properly if he holds Oikawa’s gaze for too long. “What are you doing _out here?_ ” He clarifies. “You were busy.”

Oikawa looks at Iwaizumi for a long, awkward moment, his gaze heavy. He licks at his lips, and Iwaizumi tries to ignore the motion. “I don’t care about that guy.”

Iwaizumi’s gaze narrows. “Okay?”

“That’s all you have to say?”

Frustration bubbles in Iwaizumi’s veins. He runs his hand over his face again, groaning quietly. “What do you want me to say, Oikawa?” He huffs. “Cool? You’re a grown ass man, you can do whatever you want with whoever you want.”

There is a quiet, tense moment before them. Then, Oikawa says, “Okay, let me walk you back to your dorm.”

Iwaizumi raises a brow. “What?”

Oikawa shrugs, smiling softly. “I’m a grown ass man and I can do whatever I want with whoever I want. I want to walk you home.” He responds. “As long as, of course, you are a consenting party.”

Iwaizumi can’t help the exasperated laugh that huffs from his throat. He punches Oikawa in the arm and rolls his eyes. “Whatever, sure.”

Oikawa looks pleased. They walk the ten minutes back to Iwaizumi’s dorm, which is mostly spent in silence. The sound of the frat party slowly disappears into the background, and the only sound between them is that of their breathing, their shoes on the pavement, and their own individual beating hearts.

Iwaizumi doesn’t know what Oikawa is playing at, really. He’s not sure if this is some sort of weird, unspoken apology for something between them that they haven’t brought into the open or spoken about, and the whole thing is kind of awkward and electric at the same time, like a boulder perched at the precipice of _something,_ something unknown.

When they get back to Iwaizumi’s dorm, he’s lost in his thoughts and trying to find something to say. Oikawa finds it for him. “I don’t want to do whatever I want with whoever I want.”

Iwaizumi stares at him for a long moment, frustration again simmering at the back of his throat. He runs his fingers through his hair anxiously. “Look, I don’t know what it is you’re trying to say to me, but whatever it is, just say it straight.”

There is a soft dust of pink across Oikawa’s cheeks, barely visible in the glow of the streetlamps. “I want to do whatever I want with a very specific person.”

Iwaizumi almost snaps at him, almost says, _Oikawa, I’m not playing these goddamn games, what the fuck,_ but Oikawa continues before he gets the opportunity. “You. The very specific person is you.” He rushes out, flush deepening. Iwaizumi’s eyes widen at the admission. “I like you. A lot.”

He’s not entirely sure how he expected this night to end, but Iwaizumi’s sure it wasn’t like this. He opens his mouth to respond, closes it when he can’t find words. Opens it, tries again, fails. He clears his throat, and then finally settles on: “Okay.”

A soft laugh bursts from Oikawa’s pink lips. “Iwa-chan,” He teases, but there is an anxious strain in his voice. “Is that the only word you know tonight?”

Iwaizumi flushes, his heart hammering in his chest and thundering in his ears. The rush of emotion and adrenaline is dizzying. He squeezes his eyes shut for a moment and then opens them, fingers fiddling with a fray at the seam of his shirt. “No – I – “ He tries, but falters. He takes a deep breath, meeting Oikawa’s gaze with determination even though he feels like he might faint. “Listen, I – Me, too. I feel the same. I like you.” He admits in a rush, licking at his lips, which feel suddenly dry. “But I – I can’t do _this._ I don’t play games; I’ve been there and I don’t want to go back. If we’re going to do this, we’re going to do it right or not at all.”

Oikawa’s eyes are wide but _delighted_. A wide, thrilled smile stretches across his lips. “Okay.” He agrees. “What do you consider ‘right’?” He takes a step forward so that he’s closer to Iwaizumi, gaze going heavy-lidded and boring into Iwaizumi’s soul.

Iwaizumi fights the urge to step back, Oikawa’s presence almost cloying in the way it surrounds him. He swallows thickly. “Like – Just, you know. Tell me what you’re thinking or feeling straight. Don’t make me try and guess your thoughts because I’ll probably get them wrong.” He mutters. “Don’t flirt with other people. Or like, let them kiss you.”

He knows his jealousy is showing, know his past negative experiences are bleeding through, and he feels a wash of shame for a moment. Oikawa hums softly in response. “So, you want to be exclusive?”

Iwaizumi sucks his bottom lip between his teeth, looking away as a flush rises up his neck. “Uh, I mean. Yeah? If, you know, that’s something you’re interested in.”

“Oh, Hajime,” Oikawa murmurs, almost reverently, and it takes Iwaizumi’s breath away. “I’m interested in anything you’re willing to do. I’ve been trying to find a way to ask you out for ages. That’s why I wanted you to come tonight – I was hoping I’d gain the courage to actually _do_ it. I just want to make sure we’re on the same page.” He pauses. “That goes for you, too, you know. No flirting or kissing other people, either. I’m _very_ possessive.”

Iwaizumi rolls his eyes and shoves Oikawa in the shoulder. Oikawa laughs softly, catching Iwaizumi’s wrist with his long fingers before it can fall back to Iwaizumi’s side. “I won’t.” Iwaizumi mutters. “Not that I’m much of a flirt to begin with.”

Oikawa nods, absolutely thrilled, delight _radiating_ from his very being. He brings Iwaizumi’s hand up to his chest and cradles it in between his own, nimble setter fingers kneading into Iwaizumi’s knuckles. “And – I’m sorry about earlier.” Oikawa murmurs, voice soft. “I know I’m a flirt and I like attention, and I get caught up in it sometimes.” He says, honest and raw in that vulnerable way he manages to be. “But if we’re going to date, I’ll do better. I never really had to worry about it with Sophie because she didn’t care too much – I mean, she was pretty flirtatious herself. But it bothers you, so I’ll do my best.” His fingers against Iwaizumi’s knuckles feel good and Iwaizumi has to stop himself from stepping even closer, from letting himself fall victim to the man before him more than he already has.

Iwaizumi nods breathlessly. “Okay.” He murmurs because he trusts Oikawa's words. Then, at Oikawa’s raised brow, adds, “Thank you.”

Oikawa smiles, soft and sweet. “Will you go on a date with me, Hajime?” Oikawa asks quietly. Iwaizumi’s heart hasn’t stopped racing for the past ten minutes, but it suddenly feels like it’s running an even more challenging race.

His fingers twitch in Oikawa’s grasp. “Yes.” He breathes out, feeling completely out of character with how breathless he is.

Oikawa smiles again, wide and bright and genuine, and brings Iwaizumi’s fingers up to his lips. He brushes them against the back of Iwaizumi’s knuckles and gives them a squeeze before letting them drop back to Iwaizumi’s side. Iwaizumi feels ridiculous at how charmed he is by such a simple, sweet gesture.

“Okay!” Oikawa exclaims, clapping his hands together and snapping Iwaizumi out of the spell he’s been under. “Tomorrow, 7pm, then. I’ll come pick you up here. Get a vase, I’ll bring flowers.”

Iwaizumi raises a brow, laughter bubbling in his throat. “Wow, isn’t that kind of rude, Shittykawa? Making your date find their own vase for flowers?”

Oikawa takes a step back and tucks his arms behind his back, smiling coyly. “Now, now, Iwa-chan. Relationships are supposed to be fifty-fifty, right? I bring the flowers, you get the vase.” He turns, starting in the direction of his own dorm. He pauses when he reaches the junction where the sidewalk turns a corner. “Goodnight, Iwa-chan.”

Iwaizumi leans against the bricks behind him, smiling softly, heart still struggling in the confines of his rib cage. He waves at the other man. “Goodnight, idiot.”

“If you think I’m an idiot, you should really probably re-evaluate your taste in men because you’re the one dating me, Iwa-chan!”

At this, Iwaizumi rolls his eyes and huffs out a laugh, turning to swipe his keycard into his building. “Don’t make me change my mind!” He calls back, all joke and no real threat.

The sound of footsteps coming up behind him makes him turn quickly. Suddenly, Oikawa is back beside him, _close,_ and smiling. His cheeks are flushed and Iwaizumi’s heart jumps into his throat at the sight. He has the door half open, air conditioning whirling out and around his legs, keycard in his other hand. Oikawa leans in and presses his lips to Iwaizumi’s cheek, right at the place where the corner of his lip curls up when he smiles.

Iwaizumi’s breath catches and his head turns, instinctively chasing after the lips dangling a kiss right in front of him. However, Oikawa pulls away just as Iwaizumi closes in. He tucks his lower lip between his teeth, eyes dancing above the roses of his cheeks. When he speaks, it is low, secretive, breathless. “Sleep well, Hajime.”

This time, when Oikawa turns to go, he actually does leave. Iwaizumi is left speechless, breathless, and yearning, the earlier ache in his chest returning, but instead of feeling heavy with the thought of rejection, it is buoyant and expansively filled with affection.

He is smiling as his head hits the pillow. He thinks of Oikawa up until the last moment he manages to slip into unconsciousness. The night surrounds him like a security blanket, and he gets the best night of sleep he’s had in a long, long time.

\---

Oikawa brings flowers.

Iwaizumi doesn’t own a vase and didn’t buy one because he didn’t think Oikawa had been _serious_.

Oikawa makes fun of him the entire time he digs around in his dorm to find something suitable for the bunch of greenery. He finds an old reusable water bottle and fills it with water, placing the cut stems into it delicately. They barely fit, but it _works_ , and he is inexplicably pleased and charmed when Oikawa takes them and sets them on his windowpane next to a couple other potted plants he saved from the greenhouse’s graveyard.

Iwaizumi very pointedly does _not_ tell Oikawa that he’s never been given flowers before. It makes his chest tighten with unbridled affection.

Oikawa takes him to dinner at a tasteful restaurant downtown that Iwaizumi has never been to. It’s absolutely _filled_ with plants and lit to the nines with mood lighting, and the atmosphere of the whole place makes Iwaizumi’s breath stall in his chest. It’s dreamy and soft – and apparently one of Oikawa’s most frequented establishments because the staff seem to know him by name and order, which isn’t too surprising because the aesthetic really matches Oikawa perfectly.

Iwaizumi orders something warm and comforting, and Oikawa pays for the meal despite Iwaizumi’s protests. “Hajime, _I’m_ taking _you_ on a date, which means _I_ pay.” He insists. It’s been a while since someone has paid for Iwaizumi’s meal, and it makes him feel oddly safe, like someone is really trying to take care of him.

 _When is the last time you let someone take care of you, Hajime_?

The words from Oikawa’s flirtatious texts ring in his mind, making his skin crackle with feeling.

After dinner, Oikawa takes him to an arcade, which is absolutely adorable. Iwaizumi lets Oikawa take his hand and pull him close so they can play a stupid shooter game together. They beat the high score easily and high five after. Oikawa links their fingers back together and pulls him over to another game, this time challenging Iwaizumi instead of teaming up with him.

Iwaizumi loses, but he doesn’t care because Oikawa’s smile is bright and wide and Iwaizumi feels warm and fuzzy and comfortable and nervous all at the same time. Oikawa teases Iwaizumi on the loss, and Iwaizumi reaches out to ruffle Oikawa’s perfectly styled hair. That leads to a playful tussle where they stumble back against one of the machines, Iwaizumi’s back pressing into a joystick and Oikawa grinning over him. Iwaizumi’s heart leaps into his throat because he doesn’t miss the way Oikawa’s gaze lingers on his lips, but Oikawa doesn’t do what Iwaizumi is willing him to do, doesn’t lean in and close the distance. Instead, he smiles softly and runs his fingers over Iwaizumi’s jaw before letting them slide down to link with Iwaizumi’s, tugging him back toward the other games.

They play some more games and then they walk around downtown for a little while before ending up at the ice cream shop that they went to together all those weeks ago. Iwaizumi orders a vanilla cone and Oikawa gets mint chocolate chip, and Iwaizumi doesn’t blush this time when Oikawa teases him about his vanilla preferences.

Then, after a wonderful night of playful charm and feelings welling up within the cavity of Iwaizumi’s chest, Oikawa walks Iwaizumi back to his dorm.

The walk up to Iwaizumi’s dorm room is tense. The air crackles with electricity, making Iwaizumi’s fingers tingle with an odd, nervous anticipation. He feels a little ridiculous, honestly, because it’s not like this is anywhere _near_ the first date he’s ever been on. He’s had his fair share of dates, even if they haven’t led anywhere particularly serious. He shouldn’t feel nervous about Oikawa walking him back to his dorm after a first date.

When they reach Iwaizumi’s room, he is relieved to see Oikawa looks just as nervous as he does. It is silent for a moment before Iwaizumi speaks. “I had a really good time tonight.”

Oikawa smiles, gentle and soft. “Me, too.” He says quietly. He fiddles with the cuff of his shirt. “I think my favorite part was you not having a vase for the flowers I brought you even after I told you to get one.” He teases.

Iwaizumi rolls his eyes and sighs in exaggerated exasperation. “How was I supposed to know you were serious?”

“I _literally_ told you!”

Iwaizumi laughs and reaches out to punch Oikawa in the shoulder, but he loses the momentum and ends up grabbing onto Oikawa’s shirt sleeve instead, holding onto it loosely, heart pounding in his ears. “Okay, yeah.”

Oikawa smiles and steps closer. “You told me to tell you things straight up, so I am.”

Iwaizumi swallows thickly, nodding. He looks up at Oikawa, head tilted slightly because of the slight height difference. He wonders what they’d look like to another student if someone walked by right now. “You’re right.” He agrees. “I appreciate that. I’ll try to be better about taking you seriously.”

 _God,_ this is terrifying. It’s only their first date, but it feels much, much heavier than that.

Oikawa’s lids fall slightly, gaze dark and seductive. Iwaizumi’s fingers are still tugging at the fabric of his shirt sleeve. “That’s good.” Oikawa hums. “I would really like to kiss you.”

It’s blunt and honest and hits Iwaizumi like freight train. His heart thuds in his chest. “Okay.”

Oikawa chuckles, low and warm, leaning closer, reaching up to wrap his long setter fingers on the slight dip of Iwaizumi’s waist. “You have to give me more than that, Hajime.” He murmurs. “Can I? Do you want me to? I don’t want to do anything you don’t want. The physical stuff is a big deal for you, and I’m in no rush.”

Warm affection blossoms from the core of Iwaizumi’s chest and slides through his veins. He licks his dry lips, willing them to form words. “Yeah. Yes.” He breathes out, gaze sliding down to Oikawa’s pink lips. “Yes, I’d really like that.”

Oikawa’s lips pull up into a teasing smile. He leans closer still, breath fanning against Iwaizumi’s cheek. His nose nudges at Iwaizumi’s and Iwaizumi tilts his head slightly, seeking warm lips. “You’d really like what, Hajime? You’ll have to be a little more explicit than that.” Oikawa asks, quiet and low, a tone that Iwaizumi isn’t sure he’s heard before. It makes his skin prickle with goosebumps and something warm and honey-sweet drip low in his belly.

Iwaizumi nearly growls at the question, a clear taunt. His fingers relax against Oikawa’s shirt, sliding up to rest at the junction between his throat and shoulder, collarbone beneath his palm, skin warm and alive. “Kiss me, you fucker.” He mutters, embarrassment warring with pride. “This is very clear and enthusiastic consent.”

Oikawa laughs softly, absolutely delighted, but does as commanded. He leans down the rest of the way and brushes his lips to Iwaizumi’s. It is soft and sweet, the kind of kiss that makes butterflies dance in the bellies of teenagers, the kind of kiss that promises fluffy romance, puppy love, saccharine and innocent.

It lasts only a moment and leaves Iwaizumi _yearning._ His chest aches because he feels so full of emotion, so full of adoration for this nerdy, charming man, because he wants _more._ When Oikawa pulls away, Iwaizumi releases a soft sound, barely a breath, into the barely-there space between their lips.

Oikawa’s fingers are firm on his waist. He steps closer, maneuvering them until Iwaizumi’s back presses lightly against the wall next to his dorm room door. “Okay?” He questions.

Iwaizumi nods, a little breathless. He slides his free hand up to the other side of Oikawa’s neck and swallows. “ _Yes.”_ He murmurs. “Yes, Jesus, _kiss me.”_

At this, Oikawa no longer hesitates. He surges forward and slots their lips together, tilting his head to deepen it almost immediately. His free hand wraps around Iwaizumi’s jaw, cupping his face, and Iwaizumi thinks that he might have a hand kink because _wow,_ the feeling of someone’s large, _large_ hands and long fingers wrapping around his neck should _not_ be this attractive.

Iwaizumi’s hands slide backward, twirling Oikawa’s silky hair between his fingertips. Oikawa hums in approval, pressing impossibly closer. He tilts his head a little more and licks into Iwaizumi’s mouth, pushing him further up against the wall so that their bodies are pressed together, and Iwaizumi is _gone._

While their first kiss was sweet and soft, this one is _dangerous._ It is slow and sensual, deep and soul crushing, and Iwaizumi can’t help but think of the texts that Oikawa had sent him a couple of weeks ago, can’t help but remember the near _threat_ that Oikawa could turn him to a melted puddle.

_When is the last time you let someone take care of you, Hajime?_

Oikawa kisses him like he is a dying man, like kissing Iwaizumi is the only thing that will rejuvenate him from the dreads of his deepest, darkest fears. His tongue runs along Iwaizumi’s sensitive upper palate, swirls around his tongue, teeth nipping at his lower lip. He pulls Iwaizumi’s lip in between his teeth gently, tugging and sucking _just so_ , and Iwaizumi has to tip his head back to catch his breath, a soft moan filtering from the back of his throat.

Oikawa is unperturbed by the loss of Iwaizumi’s lips. He trails his lips over Iwaizumi’s jaw, dusting kisses over the sensitive skin beneath his ear. Iwaizumi feels like he’s holding on for dear life, thinks he might be _trembling_ , especially when Oikawa slides those long fingers back to tug at the hair at the nape of Iwaizumi’s neck at the same time he nips at Iwaizumi’s earlobe.

Iwaizumi shudders, nearly collapsing into the wall behind him as his knees go week. He can’t believe how responsive he is, how _affected_ he is by Oikawa, but he’s drowning in _feeling._

“ _Tooru.”_ He murmurs, reverent, and Oikawa makes a soft sound in response, low and wild. He nudges a thigh between Iwaizumi’s legs, which make space for him easily. Iwaizumi would be embarrassed that he’s already getting hard if he couldn’t feel how clearly affected Oikawa is as well.

Oikawa’s thigh grinds gently against Iwaizumi and it makes Iwaizumi’s breath stutter. He arches into Oikawa’s touch, body responding of its own accord, hips grinding subtly against the hot flesh of Oikawa’s thigh. Oikawa captures his lips again, kissing him deep and messy, breath harsh against his cheek.

“Shit,” Iwaizumi mumbles against Oikawa’s lips, wet and hot. “ _Shit,_ okay. Come inside?”

Oikawa shivers, a hot moan sliding from his throat and Iwaizumi flushes at the sound _and_ the double entendre. He pulls away from Iwaizumi with harsh breaths, and when he meets Iwaizumi’s gaze, his pupils are blown wide, gaze dark and predatory and _wanting._

_Fuck._

Oikawa licks at his lips. “ _Hajime.”_ He whispers, closing his eyes tight. He looks _pained. “_ Oh, Hajime. I can’t.”

Iwaizumi is, honestly, really taken aback by this. “What?” He asks, fingers still curling in Oikawa’s hair. He’s _certain_ that he hasn’t read this wrong because he can _feel_ Oikawa’s own interest against his hip, can still feel the warm thigh between his own legs, tantalizingly close.

“Not tonight.” Oikawa clarifies, leaning forward to kiss Iwaizumi on the lips softly. “God, I _want_ to. Oh, I want to.” He admits, and his voice is rough, like it’s taking all of his strength to convince himself to continue speaking. “But we’re doing this _right_ , remember? I don’t want to rush things.” He pauses, cheeks hot with a blush. “I care about you way too much for that.”

Iwaizumi is both incredibly charmed and also incredibly frustrated. He _wants_ , but he knows Oikawa is right. He feels like he might already be a little bit in love with him. The words are out of his mouth before he can stop them. “Oh my God, I think I might be falling in love with you.”

Oikawa looks honestly startled by the admission, but the wide, pleased gleam of his eye is worth the sudden embarrassment Iwaizumi feels from it. “Oh, that’s good.” Oikawa murmurs. “Because I think I might be, too.”

It’s a lot, honestly. It’s a lot, and it’s all at _once,_ and Iwaizumi is suddenly very grateful that Oikawa had the restraint to stop them both from rushing into sleeping together, even if his body is regretful – even if he knows he’s going to go plummet into his bed and masturbate his mind away to relieve some of the tension. Emotion wells in his chest, deep and pure. He thinks Oikawa feels it too because he straightens slightly, breathing shakily.

“Okay.” Oikawa murmurs, letting his hands fall from Iwaizumi’s skin. Iwaizumi reluctantly follows suit. Oikawa leans forward and presses his lips back to Iwaizumi’s in a kiss reminiscent to their first, and then pulls away and steps back before he can put his hands back on Iwaizumi and reverse all of the pausing he’s just implemented. “Okay, I’m going to go while I still feel like I have some sanity, but know that I really, _really_ don’t want to.” His words come out in a rush, and then he says, “And I’d like to see you tomorrow for brunch, if you’re free.”

Iwaizumi tucks his bottom lip between his teeth to stop himself from smiling, wide and giddy. He nods. “I think I can make room in my schedule for you.” He teases.

Oikawa grins. “What an honor.”

Iwaizumi chuckles and pushes himself away from the wall. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out his key to unlock his door. He pushes it open and takes a deep breath before turning back to Oikawa. He steps forward, leans up, and brushes his lips against Oikawa’s once, twice, three times. The third is a little slower, burning and languid. Oikawa’s hands come back up to Iwaizumi’s waist and he pulls away with a low whine, his lips sliding over Iwaizumi’s jaw sloppily.

“God _dammit,_ Hajime.” Oikawa growls, fingers squeezing into Iwaizumi’s waist. Iwaizumi bites his bottom lip, smirking hotly and looking up at Oikawa with a heavy-lidded gaze. “Get in your room so I can _leave.”_

Iwaizumi’s heart squeezes with affection. He chuckles and reluctantly pulls away, this time for good. “Okay, okay.” He admonishes. “Goodnight, Tooru.”

Oikawa licks his lips and smiles, charming and lovestruck. “Goodnight, Hajime.”

Iwaizumi steps into his room and closes the door. It shuts between them with a soft click, and Iwaizumi leans against it, listening for the sound of Oikawa’s footsteps retreating down the hall. It takes a moment, a long, suffering moment, where Iwaizumi thinks Oikawa is standing outside his door and warring with himself, convincing himself to _go_ , and then his footsteps _do_ go, softly into the distance.

Iwaizumi sighs deeply, absolutely, stupidly smitten. He pulls his phone out of his pocket and types out a message.

 **[Hajime]:** Thanks for the best date, Shittykawa.

It takes a few minutes before he gets a response, during which Iwaizumi changes, washes his face, brushes his teeth, and settles in his bed, still hard and yearning and worked up.

 **[Shittykawa]:** <3<3<3

 **[Shittykawa]:** there’s more where that came from, hajime

Iwaizumi smiles to himself, the light from his phone illuminating his skin in the darkness.

He absolutely can’t wait.

\---

They meet up for brunch the next morning as planned. Iwaizumi really wants to kiss Oikawa as soon as he sees him, but refrains. Iwaizumi gets an omelet while Oikawa orders a stack of pancakes covered in an obscene amount of sugar piled on top. They chat about the upcoming week and about a new movie coming out that they should see, and Iwaizumi tries to hide his smile when Oikawa presses his leg against his underneath the table, warm and solid.

After they finish their food and step out of the dining hall, Oikawa turns toward Iwaizumi. “Iwa-chan, you know what?” Says Oikawa, tone light and playful. “I’ve been to your workplace and I’ve seen your dorm, but you haven’t seen mine! You should come over and see all my plants!”

Oikawa is completely serious in his suggestion, legitimate desire to show off his tropical plant collection to Iwaizumi shining through his expression. Iwaizumi finds it stupidly endearing, affection blossoming in his chest. He offers Oikawa a teasing smile. “Oikawa, are you just trying to find an excuse to get in my pants?”

It is a complete joke, but Oikawa’s flush is worth it. He throws his hands up defensively and sputters, “No! No, of course not, that’s not – “

Iwaizumi laughs and reaches over to grab hold of one of Oikawa’s hands to interlace their fingers. He tugs the other man closer and bumps his shoulder against Oikawa’s. “Kidding, kidding.” He eases. “I’d really love to see your plant collection.”

Oikawa is still flustered but seems very pleased with the hand-holding. He swings their arms a little like the child he is and tugs Iwaizumi along down the sidewalk toward his dorm. It’s much nicer than Iwaizumi’s, probably because of his athlete scholarship. He lives on the third floor, so they take the stairs, never letting their hands separate even though it’s a little awkward trying to climb the staircase that way.

When they reach Oikawa’s room, he turns to Iwaizumi and squeezes his hand. “Prepare to be _amazed.”_

Iwaizumi rolls his eyes but can’t help the fond smile that rises to his lips. “Oh no, I don’t know if I’m ready.” He deadpans, earning himself a grin.

Iwaizumi is, honestly, surprised by Oikawa’s room. It’s about the same size as his own, but it’s surprisingly neat. It smells distinctly of Oikawa and the lingering musk that comes with old buildings. His bed is meticulously made but Iwaizumi can’t even begin to count the number of blankets that appear to be neatly piled atop the bedding, as if Oikawa needs an entire nest to cocoon in at night. There are a couple bookshelves pressed against the wall, filled to the brim with books – and plants.

There are plants _everywhere._

They are tastefully organized to make the room feel cozy and whimsical, and Iwaizumi thinks he must have at least three times the number that he has himself, which is rather impressive. He recognizes many, but some are new to him. He knows Oikawa is watching him with glee, but Iwaizumi is really quite taken with the plant collection and steps forward to run his fingers over the long, waxy leaves of a tall plant in the corner.

“Is this the philodendron you were having trouble with?” Iwaizumi asks after a moment, glancing over at Oikawa.

The setter gives him a smile and nods. “It is. She’s doing a lot better now. I guess I was just overwatering her. Isn’t she beautiful?”

Iwaizumi nods in agreement. “She sure is.”

He wanders around the small space, stopping to ask what some of the plant species are that he doesn’t recognize, running his fingertips over branches and admiring Oikawa’s lovely collection. Iwaizumi can’t believe he’s managed to snag one of the hottest guys in the whole school _and_ said hot guy also happens to be as into plants as he is – because, what are the odds, really? To anyone else, the way he’s admiring the plants might be weird, but Oikawa _gets_ it.

Suddenly, long arms are wrapping around Iwaizumi’s waist, a sharp chin on his shoulder. Iwaizumi’s heart leaps into his throat at the sudden warmth of the body pressed close behind him. He tenses for a moment, but then relaxes into the embrace, his fingers trailing over the curve of a leaf.

“Okay, I _know_ I said that I wasn’t trying to make an excuse to get into your pants,” Oikawa’s voice is a low hum in his ear, and Iwaizumi’s eyelashes flutter at the timbre. “But you should _see_ yourself. How can someone look so attractive while admiring plants? I’ll never know.”

Iwaizumi flushes, heat sneaking up to the tips of his ears. He brings one of his palms up to rest on top of Oikawa’s arm around his waist and leans back into the embrace, tilting his head back against Oikawa’s shoulder. “Like you have room to talk.”

At this, Oikawa chuckles. Iwaizumi feels Oikawa’s lips skim across the available skin of his neck and sighs softly, melting even further into the embrace. Even though Iwaizumi is very obviously relaxed, Oikawa murmurs a soft, “Is this okay?”

Iwaizumi feels an entire zoo thunder through his belly because – well, because Oikawa is trying his best to respect Iwaizumi’s past experiences, trying his best to accommodate and remain aware of Iwaizumi’s feelings, and the very notion of that makes Iwaizumi’s heart swell with affection. He never really understood the notion of _consent is sexy_ until now. He nods and says, “Very okay.”

Everything feels warm and soft, slow and easy, and the heat from the night before returns, sparking low in his belly. “Hajime,” Oikawa sighs in response, lips brushing the cusp of Iwaizumi’s ear. “I really want to kiss you again.”

Iwaizumi rolls his lips into his mouth to keep himself from smiling and betraying the elation in his bones. “No one’s stopping you.” Iwaizumi turns in Oikawa’s hold, then, shifting so he can wrap his arms up around Oikawa’s neck. He smirks at Oikawa teasingly and lets his fingers play with the hair at the nape of Oikawa’s neck.

Oikawa’s gaze is heavy-lidded and _hot_. His fingers press into Iwaizumi’s waist, heavy and burning. He presses closer, crowding Iwaizumi up against his desk. “I guess no one is.” Oikawa agrees. “But I kind of want to hear you say it.”

Iwaizumi licks at his lips. “Say what?”

With a quirk of his mouth, Oikawa leans even closer, nose nudging Iwaizumi’s own. “That you want me to kiss you. Like last night.”

Hot sparks skip down Iwaizumi’s abdomen. There is a challenge set before him, and Iwaizumi isn’t going to go down without a fight. His breath puffs against Oikawa’s cheek. “Gonna have to make me want it, then, I guess.” He murmurs, trying to act nonchalant, but failing. He is practically vibrating with tension, as it is. “Gonna have to – what was it, you said in those texts all those weeks ago? Make me _desperate_?”

Something alights in Oikawa’s gaze, dangerous and determined, like a switch being turned on at the prospect of a challenge. His hands slide to Iwaizumi’s back, pressing hot through the fabric of his shirt. “Oh, Hajime,” He murmurs, voice low and burning. “You’re not even going to remember what the word _desperate_ means when I’m through with you.”

Iwaizumi’s lips part, eyes fluttering slightly in undeniable arousal. He never thought this chase would be so _appealing,_ never thought the notion of being so _desired_ would leave him so _wanting_. This feels nothing like his past romances.

Oikawa leans forward and trails his nose along Iwaizumi’s cheekbone. His mouth glides along Iwaizumi’s jaw, nothing more than a hot slide of lips against his skin. He nudges at Iwaizumi’s ear as he presses forward, slotting himself easily between Iwaizumi’s legs as if he belongs there, the last traces of distance diminishing between them.

Iwaizumi slides his fingers farther into Oikawa’s hair, if for no other reason than to have something to anchor him as Oikawa’s tongue flicks out and teases the sensitive lobe of Iwaizumi’s ear. The setter slides his hands down Iwaizumi’s back, lighting him on fire with the tips of his fingers, pulling him even closer still.

Oikawa’s movements are slow and sensual – calculated, as if analyzing an opponent, as if trying to pull Iwaizumi apart from the seams, trying to find all of his weak points with nothing more than the hot press of his palms and the flick of a tongue against sensitive flesh. When Oikawa ducks his head and scrapes his teeth at the delicate skin of Iwaizumi’s neck, he exhales harshly, tilting his head back and parting his lips to suck in a stifling breath of air. And when Oikawa’s fingers press beneath his shirt, nails teasing against the soft flesh at the small of Iwaizumi’s back, he can’t help the soft whimper that falls from his lips.

_Fuck._

Oikawa chuckles against the skin of Iwaizumi’s neck, and _shit,_ that shouldn’t be so hot, but it _is_ , it really, _really_ is, and Iwaizumi _loves it._ He loves this feeling of being dominated, of being _devoured_ , loves the feeling of losing control. It's been too long since he's let himself feel this way.

The entire room is filled with thick, heavy tension. Iwaizumi pulls at Oikawa’s hair softly, nails scraping against his scalp, and Oikawa groans hotly, breath mossy and warm against Iwaizumi’s damp skin. The sound makes Iwaizumi’s stomach curl with hot desire, and this time, the word comes out from the back of his throat, “ _Fuck.”_

He tugs at Oikawa’s hair again, and Oikawa nips at Iwaizumi’s skin in retaliation. His fingers glide up Iwaizumi’s shoulder blades, electric against his bare skin beneath his shirt, and then he drags his nails down all the way from broad shoulders to the small of his back, gentle enough not to leave marks but hard enough to make Iwaizumi _feel_.

And really, it’s unnecessary because Iwaizumi already feels so full of emotion, already feels the way his heart is picking up and intertwining his emotions with the feelings of his physical body, and it’s _good._

Iwaizumi can’t _help_ it. Can’t help the way his body arches right into Oikawa’s at the sensation. Can’t help the way his fingers claw at Oikawa’s scalp. The way his head lolls to the side so that Oikawa can have more access to skin, the way his lungs rattle with the weight of the tension in his belly, the way his voice curls around a wanton moan.

He doesn’t realize he’s grinding forward against Oikawa until Oikawa moans hotly, _right_ in his ear, teeth nipping at the lobe of flesh and hands pushing hard into the small of his back. Oikawa pushes forward, too, fingers dipping dangerously close to the waistband of Iwaizumi’s jeans. Iwaizumi’s own hands tremble as he drags them down to claw at Oikawa’s shoulders for stability because he’s not entire sure he is going to be able to keep standing for much longer.

And _shit,_ Oikawa hasn’t even kissed him yet.

“C’mon, Hajime,” Oikawa says, voice so low and gravelly that Iwaizumi can barely make out the words. “Tell me what you want.”

What he wants? Iwaizumi isn’t even sure he can put that into words right now, honestly. Everything. Anything. Whatever Oikawa wants to give him, he’ll take it.

He kind of wants to crawl inside of the cavity of Oikawa’s chest and let their souls curl together, but that’s a bit too much to think about right now, while he can hardly form a coherent thought.

Iwaizumi turns his head to skim his lips against Oikawa’s jaw, hot and damp against flushed skin. His nose bumps Oikawa’s, breath tickling over the setter’s lips. He presses forward to find Oikawa’s lips, but Oikawa pulls his face away before he can reach his destination.

“Uh-uh.” Oikawa chides, voice almost _disappointed_ , and oh _God,_ that shouldn’t make Iwaizumi’s insides twist the way it does. “Nice try, Hajime.” He murmurs, voice almost hypnotic. “Just be a good boy and tell me what you want.”

Iwaizumi’s entire body feels as if it’s on fire. He is vibrating with desire, tense and hot and _needy_ , and Oikawa’s fingers are so tangible on his skin, his breath warm against his cheek. Iwaizumi licks at his lips, eyes lingering over Oikawa’s before he looks away and off to the side to try and regroup with his melting thoughts.

At his wandering gaze, Oikawa leans down and grabs Iwaizumi by the back of his thighs, hefting him up onto the desk behind him. Iwaizumi is surprised by the change in position, but before he can say anything about it, Oikawa’s hands are on his hips, pulling him forward to slot their groins together and Iwaizumi, once again, forgets coherent thought. Instead, his head falls forward onto Oikawa’s shoulder with a long, needy groan as Oikawa grinds their hips together in slow, ardent circles.

“I – Fuck – Tooru.” Iwaizumi tries, fingers scrambling for purchase anywhere that he can find it. Oikawa’s fingers press hotly into the flesh of his sides, his teeth nipping at the cusp of Iwaizumi’s jaw. “Tooru. _Tooru.”_

It’s so _hot_. _He’s_ so hot. He’s burning up. He _wants_. _He wants._ It’s been so long since he’s been really touched like this, since he’s been scorched and ignited. It’s too much. He’s going to come in his pants like a goddamn teenager and Oikawa hasn’t even _kissed him yet._

“ _Hajime.”_ Oikawa’s voice is strained, tight with tension and heavy with desire. “Hajime, _please.”_ He pants out.

“Oh, fuck you.” Iwaizumi murmurs, sliding his arms tight around Oikawa’s neck. “Please, goddamnit, please, Tooru, _kiss me.”_

“Oh _thank God.”_ Oikawa hums, all heat. “Good boy, Hajime.”

Iwaizumi moans hotly at those words, embarrassment warring with his desire, but then Oikawa is finally kissing him and he couldn’t care less about anything else.

Oikawa licks into his mouth sloppily, deep and lingering and all heat. Their need from the night before is back with a vengeance, and Iwaizumi may have said that he _thought_ he was falling in love with Oikawa last night, but he doesn’t even doubt it now. There’s no other explanation for the way his body, his heart, his _soul_ is responding to the man before him.

Oikawa seems to melt into Iwaizumi, hips rocking erratically, and honestly, the sights and feelings and sounds are just all _too_ much all at once and suddenly Iwaizumi finds himself falling over the edge of orgasm. He rips his lips away from Oikawa’s with a soft cry of surprise as the pleasure peaks. He hears Oikawa mutter, “ _Oh, fuck,”_ against his jaw before he presses his face into Iwaizumi’s neck and clamps down, teeth stinging Iwaizumi’s skin in a way that is far too delicious, and then he’s coming, too, a low groan into the skin of Iwaizumi’s neck as his hips stutter.

There is nothing but quiet stillness in the after as they catch their breaths. Iwaizumi’s heart feels full of emotion that he’s unsure what to do with. Oikawa seems to get his bearings first and nuzzles gently against Iwaizumi’s neck, peppering it with soft kisses that make Iwaizumi’s heart ache even more.

When Oikawa unrolls his spine to stand straight again, Iwaizumi is absolutely blown away by how attractive the man looks with his soft gaze and orgasm-blush high on his cheeks. “I guess you technically didn’t get into my pants after all.”

Oikawa looks stunned by the sudden joke, but then he stutters out a soft laugh that slowly evolves into something louder and stupidly charming. Iwaizumi can’t help the lopsided grin that slaps itself across his face. When Oikawa’s laughter dies down, he reaches up to swipe his hands through Iwaizumi’s hair in an entirely fond and affectionate manner. “I told you that wasn’t my plan.”

Iwaizumi leans forward and places a soft, lingering kiss to Oikawa’s lips. “And _this_ was?”

Oikawa has the decency to flush. “No – not at all, to be honest.” He responds softly. “Uhm. Sorry, I know you want to do this right, and I’m _trying_ –“

Heart squeezing in his chest, Iwaizumi slides his hands around to cup Oikawa’s jaw in his hands softly. He swipes his thumbs over flushed cheeks and feels stupidly in love. “This _is_ right.” He murmurs. “It feels right to me. Does it feel right to you?”

Oikawa’s breath stutters in his chest. “Yes.” He whispers.

“Then, we’re doing it right.” Iwaizumi reassures, and that's all they need for now.

**Author's Note:**

> Mint chocolate chip ice cream is the superior ice cream flavor.
> 
> twitter~  
> [come yell at me over there](https://twitter.com/rekamohcss)


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